RUNNING  AWAY  TO  CHURCH.     Page  26. 


DOTTY   DIMPLE    STORIES. 


DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


BY    SOPHIE    MAY, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  LITTLE  PRUDY  STORIES." 


BOSTON: 
LEES     <A^NT>      SHEF-A.RD. 

1870. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

LEE  AND  SHEPAKD, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


ELEOTKOTTPED  AT  THE 
BOSTON  STEBEOTYTE  FOUNBET, 

19  .Spring  Lane. 


7  C 


TO   THE 


LITTLE 


DOTTY  DIMPLE  STORIES. 

To  be  completed  in  six  vols.     Handsomely  Illustrated. 
Each  vol.,  75  cts. 

1.  DOTTY  DIMPLE  AT  HER  GRANDMOTHER'S. 

2.  DOTTY  DIMPLE  AT  HOME. 

3.  DOTTY  DIMPLE  OUT  WEST. 

4.  DOTTY  DIMPLE  AT  PLAY. 

5.  DOTTY  DIMPLE  AT  SCHOOL. 

6.  DOTTY  DIMPLE  S  FLYAWAY. 


i 
BOOKS  BY  THE   SAME  AUTHOR. 

LITTLE  PRUDY  STORIES. 

Now  complete.    Six  vols.   24mo.    Handsomely  Illustrated. 
In  a  neat  box.    Per  vol.,  75  cts.    Comprising 

LITTLE  PRUDY. 

LITTLE  PRUDY'S  SISTER   SUSIE. 
LITTLE  PRUDY'S   CAPTAIN  HORACE. 
LITTLE  PRUDY' S  COUSIN  GRACE. 
LITTLE  PRUDY' S  STORY  BOOK. 
LITTLE  PRUDY'S  DOTTY  DIMPLE. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  BEGINNING  TO  REMEMBER.        ...            7 

II.  RUNNING  AWAY  TO  CHURCH.        ...      20 

III.  RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN.    ...          37 

IV.  A  RAILROAD  SAVAGE.  .        .        .        .        .51 

V.    EAST  AGAIN.  67 

VI.    THE  RAG-BAG 84 

VII.  THE  WICKED  GIRL 102 

VIII.  "  WHEELBARROWING."  .  .  .  .117 

IX.  TIN-TYPES 138 

X.  WAKING 154 

XI.  AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY 170 

XII.  PULL  NIPPERKIN. 189 


DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

CHAPTEE  I. 

BEGINNING    TO   REMEMBER. 

KATIE  CLIFFORD  was  a  very  bright  child. 
She  almost  knew  enough  to  keep  out  of 
fire  and  water,  but  not  quite.  She  looked 
like  other  little  girls,  only  so  wise,  —  O, 
so  very  wise !  —  that  you  couldn't  tell  her 
any  news  about  the  earth,  or  the  sun, 
moon,  and  stars,  for  she  knew  all  about 
it  "byfore." 

Her  hair  was  sr>ft  and  flying  like  corn- 
silk,  and  when  the  wind  took  it  you  would 
think  it  meant  to  blow  it  off  like  a  dan 
delion  top.  She  was  so  light  and  breezy, 

(7) 


8  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

and  so  little  for  her  age,  that  her  father 
said  "  they  must  put  a  cent  in  her  pocket 
to  keep  her  from  flying  away;"  so,  after 
that,  the  family  began  to  call  her  Flya 
way.  She  thought  it  was  her  name,  and 
that  when  people  said  "Katie,"  it  was  a 
gentle  way  they  had  of  scolding. 

Everybody  petted  her.  Her  brother 
Horace  put  his  heart  right  under  her  feet, 
and  she  danced  over  it.  Her  "uncle  Ed- 
dard "  said  "  she  drove  round  the  world 
in  a  little  chariot,  and  all  her  friends  were 
harnessed  to  it,  only  they  didn't  know  it." 

Her  shoulders  were  very  little,  but  they 
bore  a  crushing  weight  of  care.  From 
the  time  she  began  to  talk,  she  took  upon 
herself  the  burden  of  the  whole  family. 
When  Mrs.  Clifford  had  a  headache,  Fly 
away  was  so  full  of  pity  that  nothing 
could  keep  her  from  climbing  upon  the 


BEGINNING  TO   REMEMBER.  9 

sufferer,  stroking  her  face,  and  saying, 
"  O,  my  dee  mamma,"  or  perhaps  break 
ing  the  camphor  bottle  over  her  nose. 

She  sat  at  table  in  a  high  chair  beside 
her  father,  and  might  have  learned  good 
manners  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  care 
she  felt  of  Horace.  She  could  scarcely 
attend  to  her  own  little  knife  and  fork, 
because  she  was  so  busy  watching  her 
brother.  She  wished  to  see  for  herself 
that  he  was  sitting  straight,  and  not  lean 
ing  his  elbows  on  the  table.  If  he  made 
any  mistake  she  cried,  t?  Hollis ! "  in  a 
tone  as  sweet  as  a  wind-harp,  though  she 
meant  it  to  be  terribly  severe,  adding  to 
the  effect  by  shaking  the  corn-silk  on  her 
head  in  high  displeasure.  If  she  could 
correct  him  she  thought  she  had  done  as 
much  good  in  the  family  as  if  she  had 
behaved  well  herself.  He  received  all  re- 


10  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

bukes  very  meekly,  with  a  'Thank  you, 
little  Topknot.  What  would  be  done  here 
without  you  to  preserve  order  ? " 

V 

Flyaway  could  remember  as  far  back  as 
the  beginning  of  the  world, — that  is  to 
say,  she  could  remember  when  her  world 
began. 

It  is  strange  to  think  of,  but  the  first 
thing  she  really  knew  for  a  certainty,  she 
was  standing  in  a  yellow  chair,  in  her 
grandmother  Parlin's  kitchen !  It  was  as 
if  she  had  always  been  asleep  till  that 
minute.  People  did  say  she  had  once 
been  a  baby,  but  she  could  not  recollect 
that,  "it  was  so  MANY  years  ago." 

Her  mind,  you  see,  had  always  been 
as  soft  as  a  bag  of  feathers ;  and  nothing 
that  she  did,  or  that  any  one  else  did, 
made  much  impression.  But  now  some 
thing  remarkable  was  taking  place,  and 
she  would  never  forget  it. 


BEGINNING   TO   REMEMBER.  11 

It  was  this :  she  was  grinding  coffee. 
How  prettily  it  pattered  down  on  the  floor ! 
What  did  it  look  like?  O,  like  snuff,  that 
people  sneezed  with.  This  was  house 
work.  Next  thing  they  would  ask  her  to 
wash  dishes  and  set  the  table.  She  would 
grow  larger  and  larger,  and  Gracie  would 
grow  littler  and  littler;  and  O,  how  nice 
it  would  be  when  she  could  do  all  the 
work,  and  Gracie  had  to  sit  in  mamma's 
lap  and  be  rocked ! 

"Flywer'll  do  some  help,"  said  she. 
"Flywer'll  take  'are  of  g'amma's  things." 

While  she  stood  musing  thus,  with  a 
dreamy  smile,  and  turning  the  handle  of 
the  mill  as  fast  as  it  would  go  round, 
somebody  sprang  at  her  very  unexpect 
edly.  It  was  Euth,  the  kitchen-girl.  She 
seized  Katie  by  the  shoulders,  carried  her 
through  the  air,  and  set  her  on  her  feet 
in  the  sink. 


12  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"There,  little  Mischief,"  said  she,  "you'll 
stay  there  one  while !  We'll  see  if  we 
can't  put  a  stop  to  this  coffee-grinding ! 
Why,  you're  enough  to  wear  out  the  pa 
tience  of  Job  !  " 

Katie  had  often  heard  about  Job ;  she 
supposed  it  was  something  dreadful,  like  a 
lion,  or  a  whale.  She  looked  up  at  Buth, 
and  saw  her  black  eyes  flashing  and  the 
rosy  color  trembling  in  her  cheeks.  Cruel 
Euth !  She  did  not  know  Katie  was  her 
best  friend,  working  and  helping  get  din 
ner  as  fast  as  she  could.  "Buthie," 
sobbed  she,  "you  didn't  ask  please." 

"Well,  well,  child,  I'm  in  a  hurry;  and 
when  you  set  things  to  flying,  you're 
enough  to  wear  out  the  patience  of  Job." 

Job  again. 

"  You've  said  so  two  times,  Euthie ! 
Now  I  don't  like  you  tall,  tenny  rate." 


BEGINNING   TO    REMEMBER.  13 

This  was  as,  harsh  language  as  Katie 
dared  use ;  but  she  frowned  fearfully,  and 
a  tuft  of  hair,  rising  from  her  head  like 
a  waterspout,  made  her  look  so  fierce 
that  Euth  seemed  to  be  frightened,  and 
ran  away  with  her  apron  up  to  her  face. 

The  sink  was  so  high  that  Katie  could 
not  get  out  of  it  alone, — "course  indeed 
she  couldn't." 

"It  most  makes  me  'fraid,"  said  she  to 
herself:  "Euthie's  a  big  woman,  I's  a  little 
woman.  When  I's  the  biggest  I'll  put 
Euthie  in  my  sink." 

Very  much  comforted  by  this  resolve, 
she  dried  her  eyes  and  began  to  look 
about  her  for  more  housework.  "Let's 
me  see ;  I'll  pump  a  bushel  o'  water." 

There  was  a  pail  in  the  sink;  so,  what 
should  she  do  but  jump  into  that,  and 
then  jerk  the  pump-handle  up  and  down, 


14  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

till  a  fine  stream  poured  out  and  sprin 
kled  her  all  over ! 

"  Sing  a  song,  O  sink-spout,"  sang  she, 
catching  her  breath  :  but  presently  she 
began  to  feel  cold. 

"  O,  how  it  makes  me  shivvle!  r  said 
she. 

"  Katie  ! "   called   out   a  voice. 

"  Here  me  are !  "  gurgled  the  little  one, 
her  mouth  under  the  pump-nose. 

When  Horace  came  in  she  was  standing 
in  water  up  to  the  tops  of  her  long  white 
stockings.  He  took  her  out,  wrung  her 
a  little,  and  set  her  on  a  shelf  in  the 
pantry  to  dry. 

"  Oho  !  "  said  she,  shaking  her  wet  plu 
mage,  like  a  duckling  ;  "  what  for  you 
look  that  way  to  me?  I  didn't  do  nuf- 
fin,  —  not  the  leastest  nuffin !  The  water 
kep'  a  comin'  and  a  comin'." 


BEGINNING   TO   REMEMBER.  15 

"Yes,  you  little  naughty  girl,  and  you 
kept  pumping  and  pumping." 

"  I'm  isn't  little  naughty  goorl,"  thought 
Katie,  indignantly;  "but  Euthie's  naughty 
goorl,  and  Hollis  velly  naughty  goorl." 

"O,  here  you  are,  you  little  Hop-o'-my- 
thumb,"  said  Mrs.  Clifford,  coming  into 
the  pantry ;  "  a  baby  with  a  cough  in  her 
throat  and  pills  in  her  pocket  musn't  get 
wet." 

Flyaway  thrust  her  hand  into  her  wet 
pocket  to  make  sure  the  wee  vial  of  white 
dots  was  still  there. 

"I  fished  her  out  of  a  pail  of  water," 
said  Horace ;  "  to-morrow  I  shall  find  her 
in  a  bird's  nest." 

Mrs.  Clifford  sent  for  some  fresh  stock 
ings  and  shoes.  Her  baby-daughter  was 
so  often  falling  into  mischief  that  she 
thought  very  little  about  it.  She  did  not 


16  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

know  this  was  a  remarkable  occasion,  and 
the  baby  had  to-day  begun  to  remember. 
She  did  not  know  that  if  Flyaway  should 
live  to  be  an  old  lady,  she  would  some 
times  say  to  her  grandchildren,  — 

"  The  very  first  thing  I  have  any  recol 
lection  of,  dears,  is  grinding  coffee  in  your 
great-grandmamma's  kitchen  at  Willow- 
brook.  The  girl,  Euth  Dillon,  took  me 
up  by  the  shoulders,  carried  me  through 
the  air,  and  set  me  in  the  sink,  and  then 
I  pumped  water  over  myself." 

This  is  about  the  way  little  Flyaway 
would  be  likely  to  talk,  sixty  years  from 
now,  adding,  as  she  polished  her  specta 
cles,  — 

"  And  after  that,  children,  things  went 
into  a  mist,  and  I  don't  remember  any 
thing  else  that  happened  for  some  time." 

Why   was   it  that   things   "  went    into   a 


BEGINNING   TO   REMEMBER.  17 

mist "  ?     Why   didn't   she   keep   on  remem 
bering  every   day?     I  don't   know. 

But  the  next  thing  that  really  did  hap 
pen  to  Miss  Thistleblow  Flyaway,  though 
she  went  right  off  and  forgot  it,  was  this  : 
She  persuaded  her  mother  to  write  a  letter 
for  her  to  "  Dotty  Dimpwill."  As  it  was 
her  first  letter,  I  will  copy  it. 

w  Mr  DEAR  DOTTY  DIMPWILL  first,  then  MY 
PRUDY : 

"I'm  going  to  say  that  I  dink  milk, 
and  that  girl  lost  my  pills. 

"  I  see  a  hop-toad.  He  hopped.  Jen 
nie  took  her  up  in  his  dress. 

"  And  'bout  we  put  hop-toad  in  wash- 
dish.  He  put  his  foots  out,  stwetched, 
honest !  He  was  a  slippy  fellow.  First 
thing  we  knowed  it,  he  hopped  on  to  her 
dress.  Isn't  that  funny? 
2 


18  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  Now  'bout  the  chickens ;  they  are  trot- 
tin'  round  on  the  grass  :  they  didn't  be 
dead.  We  haven't  got  any  only  bnt  dead 
ones ;  but  Mis'  Gray  has.  r 

"  I  like   Dr.  Gray  ever   so  much ! 

"  Mis'  Gray  gave  me  the  kitty  to  play 
with.  I  bundled  it  all  up  in  my  dress, 
'cause  I  didn't  want  the  cat  to  get  it. 
When  I  went  home  I  gave  it  to  the  cat. 
[You  got  that  ^vrotenf~\ 

?  There  wasn't  any  dead  little  kittens. 
She  gave  me  a  cookie,  and  I  eated  it,  and 
I  told  her  to  give  me  another  to  bring 
home,  'cause  I  liked  her  cookies ;  they  was 
curly  cookies.  [Got  it  wroted,  mamma?] 

"  Now  'bout  I  pumped  full  a  pail  full 
Q*  water. 

:?  [She   knows  we've   got  a  house  ?  ] 

"  Now  say  good  by,  and  I  kiss  her  a 
pretty  little  kiss.  O,  no ;  I  want  her  to 


BEGINNING   TO   REMEMBER.  19 

come  and  see  me, — her  and  Prudy, —  two 
of  'em!  I's  here  yet.  ['Haps  she  knows 
it!] 

"That's   all-^I  feel  sleepy. 
(Signed)  "  From 

"  DOTTY  DIMPWILL  TO  FLYWER." 

This  letter  "went  into  a  mist,"  and  so 
did  the  next  performance,  which  you  will 
read  in  the  following  chapter. 


20  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


CHAPTER    II. 

RUNNING    AWAY    TO    CHURCH. 

THE  little  Parlins  came  the  next  week. 
One  Sunday  morning  Dotty  Dimple  stood 
before  the  glass,  putting  on  her  hat  for 
church.  Katie  came  and  peeped  in  with 
her,  opening  her  small  mouth  and  drawing 
her  lips  over  her  teeth,  as  her  grandfather 
did  when  he  shaved. 

"See,  Flyaway,  you  haven't  any  dimples 

at   all ! "    said    Dotty,    primping    a    little. 

'Your    hair    isn't    smooth    and   curly   like 

mine  ;    it   sticks    up   all    over    your  head, 

like   a  little  fan." 

"  Q,  my  shole  !  "  sighed  Flyaway,  scowl- 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  CHURCH.       21 

ing  at  herself.      She    did    not   know  how 
lovely  she  was,  nor  how 

"  The  light  of  the  heaven  she  came  from 
Still  lingered  and  gleamed  in  her  hair." 

"I  wisht   'twouldn't   get   out,"  said  she. 

'  What  do  you  mean   by   out  ? " 

"  O,  unwetted,  and  un-comb-bid,  and  un- 
parted." 

:?  That's  because  you  fly  about  like  such 
a  little  witch." 

"  I  doesn't  do  the  leastest  nuffin,  Dotty 
Dimpwill !  Folks  ought  to  let  me  to  go 
to  churches." 

"I  should  laugh,  Fly  Clifford,  to  see  you 
going  to  churches  !  All  the  ministers  would 
come  down  out  of  the  pulpits  and  ask 
what  little  mischief  that  was,  and  make 
aunt  'Ria  carry  you  home  !  " 

"  No,  he  wouldn't,   too !     I'd   sit  stiller'n 


22  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

two,  free,  five  hundred  mouses,"  pleaded 
Flyaway,  climbing  up  the  back  of  a  chair 
to  show  how  quiet  she  could  be. 

"O,  it's  no  use  to  talk  about  it,  darling. 
Give  me  one  kiss,  and  I'll  go  get  'my  sun 
shade." 

"  Can't,  Dotty  Dimpwill !  My  mamma's 
kiss  I'll  keep;  it's  ahind  my  mouf;  she's 
gone  to  'Dusty. 

"Well,  'keep  it  ahind  your  mouf,'  then; 
and  here's  another  to  put  with  it.  What 
do  you  s'pose  makes  me  love  to  kiss  you 
so?" 

"O,  'cause  I  so  sweet,"  replied  Flya 
way,  promptly;  but  she  was  not  thinking 
of  her  own  sweetness,  just  then;  she  was 
wondering  if  she  could  manage  to  run 
away  to  church. 

"I'se  a-goin'  there  myse'f!  Sit  still's  a 
--a — "  She  looked  around  for  a  com- 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  CHURCH.      23 

parison,  and  saw  a  grasshopper  on  the 
window-sill  :  "  still's  a  gas-papa.  Man 
won't  say  nuffin'  to  me,  see  ?f  he  does  !  " 

Strange  such  an  innocent-looking  child 
could  be  so  sly !  She  ran  down  the  path 
with  Horace,  kissing  her  little  hand  to 
everybody  for  good  by,  all  the  while 
thinking  how  she  could  steal  off  to  church 
without  being  seen. 

f  You  may  go  up  stairs  and  lie  down 
with  me  on  my  bed,"  said  grandma,  who 
was  not  very  well.  So  Katie  climbed  upon 
the  bed. 

"  My  dee  gamma,  I  so  solly  you's  sick  !  " 
said  she,  stroking  Mrs.  Parlin's  face,  and 
picking  open  her  eyelids.  But  after  pat 
ting  and  "  pooring  "  the  dear  lady  for  some 
time,  she  thought  she  had  made  her  "all 
well,"  and  then  was  anxious  to  get  away. 
Mrs.  Parlin  wished  to  keep  her  up  stairs 


24  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

as   long  as  possible,   because    Euth  had  a 
toothache. 

"Shan't  I  tell  you  a  story,  dear?"  said 
she. 

'Yes,  um;  tell  'bout  a  long  baby  — no, 
a   long   story   'bout  a  short   baby." 

'Well,   once   there   was  a  king,  and  he 
had  a  daughter  —  " 

"O,  no,  gamma,  not  that!  Tell  me 
'bout  baby  that  didn't  be  on  the  bul- 
yushes  ;  I  don't  want  to  hear  'bout  Mosey!  " 
Grandma  smiled,  and  wondered  if  peo 
ple,  in  the  good  old  Bible  days,  were  in 
the  habit  of  using  pet  names,  and  if  Pha 
raoh's  daughter  ever  called  the  Hebrew 
boy  "Mosey."  She  was  about  to  begin 
another  story,  when  Flyaway  said,  "  Guess 
I'll  go  out,  now,"  and  slid  off  the  bed. 
There  was  an  orange  on  the  table.  She 
took  it,  held  it  behind  her,  and  walked 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  CHURCH.       25 

quickly  to   the  door.      Looking   back,    she 

saw   that    her    grandmother  was   watching 

« 
her. 

"What  you  looking  at,  gamma?  'Cause 
I'm  are  goin'  to  bring  the  ollinge  right 
back." 

And  so  she  did,  but  not  because  it  was 
wrong  to  keep  it.  Flyaway  had  no  con 
science,  or,  if  she  had  any,  it  was  very 
small,  folded  up  out  of  sight,  like  a  leaf- 
bud  on  a  tree  in  the  spring. 

"  Ask  Euthie  to  wash  your  face  and 
hands,  and  then  come  right  back  to  grand 
ma  and  hear  the  story." 

"Yes   urn." 

Down  stairs  she  pattered.  The  mo 
ment  Euth  had  kissed  her,  and  turned 
away  to  make  a  poultice,  she  crept  into 
the  nursery,  and  put  on  Horace's  straw  hat. 
Then  she  took  from  a  corner  an  old  cane 


26  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

of  her  grandfather's,  and  from  -the  paper- 
rack  a  daily  newspaper,  and  started  out 
in  great  glee.  The  "  Journal "  she  hugged 
to  her  heart,  and  her  short  dress  she  held 
up  to  her  waist,  ?  'Cause  I  s'pect  I  mus' 
keep  it  out  o'  the  mud,"  said  she,  as  anx 
iously  as  any  lady  with  a  train. 

She  had  no  trouble  in  finding  the  church, 
for  the  road  was  straight,  but  the  cane 
kept  tripping  her  up. 

"Naughty  fing !  Wisht  I  hadn't  took 
you,  to-day,  you  act  so  bad ! "  said  she, 
picking  herself  up  for  the  fifth  time,  and 
slinging  the  "  naughty  fing "  across  her 
shoulder  like  a  gun.  When  she  came  to 
the  meeting-house  there  was  not  a  soul  to 
be  seen.  "  Guess  they's  eatin'  dinner  in 
here,"  decided  Flyaway,  after  looking  about 
for  a  few  seconds.  "  Guess  I'll  go  up 
chamer,  see  where  the  folks  is." 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  CHURCH.      27 

Up  stairs  she  clattered,  hitting  the  bal 
usters  with  her  cane.  Good  Mr.  Lee  was 
preaching  from  the  text,  "  Remember  the 
Sabbath  day,  to  keep  it  holy,"  and  people 
could  .not  imagine  who  was  naughty  enough 
to  make  such  a  noise  outside  —  thump, 
thump,  thump. 

"Who's  that  a-talkin'?"  thought  Flya 
way,  startled  by  Mr.  Lee's  voice.  "  O,  ho  ! 
that's  the  prayer-man  a-talkin'.  He  makes 
me  kind  o'  'fraid !  " 

But  just  at  that  minute  she  had  reached 
the  top  of  the  stairs,  and  was  standing  in 
the  doorway. 

"  O,    my   shole  !    so   many   folks  !  " 

She  trembled,  and  was  about  to  run 
away  with  her  newspaper  and  cane ;  but 
her  eyes,  in  roving  wildly  about,  fell  upon 
grandpa  Parlin  and  all  the  rest  of  them, 
in  a  pew  very  near  the  pulpit.  Then  she 


28  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

thought  it  must  be  all  right,  and,  taking 
courage,  she  marched  slowly  up  the  aisle, 
swinging  the  cane  right  and  left. 

Everybody  looked  up  in  surprise  as  the 
droll  little  figure  crept  by.  Grandpa 
frowned  through  his  spectacles,  and  aunt 
Louise  shook  her  head  ;  but  Horace  hid 
his  face  in  a  hymn-book  and  Dotty  Dim 
ple  actually  smiled. 

"They  didn't  know  /  was  a-comin'," 
thought  Flyaway,  "but  I  earned!" 

And  with  that  she  fluttered  into  the 
pew. 

"Naughty,  naughty  girl,"  said  aunt  Lou 
ise,  in  an  awful  whisper. 

She  longed  to  take  up  the  morsel  of 
naughtiness,  called  Katie,  in  her  thumb  and 
finger,  shake  it,  and  carry  it  out.  But 
there  was  a  twinkle  in  the  little  one's  eye 
that  might  mean  mischief  ;  she  did  not 
dare  touch  her. 


RUNNING    AWAY    TO   CHURCH.  29 

"  O,  what  a  child !  "  said  aunt  Louise, 
taking  off  the  big  hat  and  setting  Flya 
way  down  on  the  seat  as  hard  as  she 
could. 

Flyaway  looked  up,  through  her  veil  of 
flossy  hair,  at  her  pretty  auntie  with  the 
roses  round  her  face. 

"Nobody  didn't  take  'are  o'  me  to  my 
house,"  said  she,  in  a  loud  whisper,  "  and 
that's  what  is  it!" 

"Hush!"  said  aunt  Louise,  giving  Fly 
away  another  shake,  which  frightened  her 
so  that  she  dropped  her  head  on  her  broth 
er's  shoulder,  and  sat  perfectly  still  for 
half  a  minute. 

Aunt  Louise  was  sadly  mortified,  and 
so  were  Susy  and  Prudy.  They  dared 
not  look  up,  for  they  thought  everybody 
was  gazing  straight  at  the  Parliii  pew,  and 
laughing  at  their  crazy  little  relative.  Hor- 


30  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

ace  and  Dotty  Dimple  did  not  care  in 
the  least;  they  thought  it  very  funny. 

"They  shan't  scold  at  my  cunning  little 
Topknot,"  whispered  Horace,  consolingly. 
"Sit  still,  darling,  and  when  we  get  home 
I'll  give  you  a  cent." 

"Yes  urn,  I  will,"  replied  poor  brow 
beaten  Flyaway,  and  held  up  her  head 
again  with  the  best  of  them.  Perhaps  she 
had  been  naughty  ;  perhaps  folks  were 
going  to  snip  her  fingers ;  but  "  Hollis  " 
was  on  her  side  now  and  forever.  She 
began  to  feel  quite  contented.  She  had 
got  inside  the  church  at  last,  and  was  very 
well  pleased  with  it.  It  was  even  queerer 
than  she  had  expected. 

"  What  was  that  high-up  thing  the  pray 
er-man  was  a-standin'  on?" 

Flyaway  merely  asked  this  of  her  own 
wise  little  brain.  She  concluded  it  must 
be  "  a  chimley." 


RUNNING   AWAY   TO    CHURCH.  31 

"  Great  red  curtains  ahincl  him,"  added 
she,  still  conversing  with  her  own  little 
brain.  "Lots  o'  great  big  bubbles  on  the 
walls  all  round.  Big's  a  tea-kiddle  !  Lamps, 
I  s'pose.  There's  that  table.  Where's  the 
cups  and  saucers  for  the  supper?  And 
the  tea-pot  ? 

"All  the  bodies  everywhere  had  their 
bonnets  on;  why  for?  Didn't  say  a  word, 
and  the  prayer-man  kep'  a-talkin'  all  the 
time;  why  for?  Flywer  didn't  talk;  no 
indeed.  Folks  mus'n't.  If  folks  did,  then 
the  man  would  come  down  out  the  chim- 
ley  and  tell  the  other  bodies  to  carry  'em 
home.  'Cause  it's  the  holy  Sabber-day, 
—  and  that's  what  is  it." 

Flyaway's  airy  brain  went  dancing  round 
and  round.  She  slid  away  from  Horace's 
shoulder,  spread  her  little  length  upon  the 
seat,  closed  her  wondering,  tired  eyes,  and 


32  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

sailed  off  to  Noddle's  Island.  A  fly,  buzz 
ing  in  from  out  doors,  had  long  been  try 
ing  to  settle  on  Flyaway's  restless  nose. 
He  never  did  settle :  Horace  kept  guard 
with  a  palm-leaf  fan,  and  "  all  the  other 
bodies  "  in  the  pew  sat  as  still  as  if  they 
had  been  nailed  down;  so  anxious  were 
they  to  keep  the  little  sleeper  safely  har 
bored  at  Noddle's  Island. 

"Such  a  relief!"  thought  aunt  Louise, 
venturing  to  look  up  once  more. 

Flyaway  did  not  waken  till  the  last 
prayer,  when  Horace  held  her  fast,  lest 
she  should  make  a  sudden  rush  upon  a 
speckled  dog,  which  came  trotting  up  the 
aisle. 

On  the  steps  they  met  Ruth,  with  wild 
eyes  and  face  tied  up  in  a  scarf,  hunting 
for  Flyaway.  Mrs.  Parlin,  she  said,  was 
going  up  the  hill,  so  frightened  that  it 
would  make  her  "  down  sick." 


RUNNING   AWAY   TO    CHURCH.  33 

When  grandma  got  home,  all  out  of 
breath,  she  found  Flyaway  looking  very 
downcast.  Her  heart  was  heavy  under  so 
many  scoldings.  "O,  Katie,"  said  grand 
ma,  "how  could  you  run  away?" 

"I  didn't  yun  away,"  replied  Flyaway, 
thrusting  her  finger  into  her  mouth  ;  w  I 
walked  away !  " 

"There,  if  that  isn't  a  cunning  baby, 
where'll  you  find  one?"  whispered  brother 
Horace  to  Prudy.  "  Grandmother  can't  pun 
ish  her  after  such  a  'cute  speech." 

But  grandmother  could,  and  did.  She 
took  her  by  the  little  soft  hand,  led  her 
to  the  china  closet,  and  locked  her  in. 

"  Half  an  hour  you  must  stay  there," 
said  she,  "and  think  what  a  naughty  girl 
you've  been ! " 

:?Yes  um,"  said  Flyaway,  meekly,  and 
wiped  off  a  tear  with  the  hem  of  her  frock. 
3 


34  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

But  the  moment  she  was  left  alone,  hex 
quick,  observing  eyes  saw  something  which 
gave  her  a  thrill  of  delight.  It  was  a  jar 
of  quince  jelly,  which  had  been  left  by 
accident  on  the  lower  shelf. 

"  'Cause  I  spect  I  likes  urn,"  said  she, 
serenely,  after  eating  all  she  possibly  could. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  grandma 
came  and  turned  the  key. 

"  Have  you  been  thinking,  dear,  and 
are  you  sorry  and  ready  to  come  out?" 

"Yes,  um,"  replied  the  little  culprit, 
with  her  mouth  full,  and  feeling  very  brav^ 
as  long  as  the  door  was  shut  between  her 
and  her  jailer.  "Yes,  um,  I've  thought  it 
all  up,  —  defful  solly.  But  you  won't 
never  shut  me  up  no  more,  gamma  Par- 
lin !  " 

"Katie  Clifford!"  said  grandma,  sternly; 
and  then  she  opened  the  door,  and  faced 
Flyaway. 


RUNNING   AWAY    TO    CHURCH.  35 

"'Cause  —  'cause  —  'cause,"  cried  the  lit 
tle  one,  in  great  alarm;  "you  won't  shut 
me  up,  'cause  I  won't  never  walk  away 
no  more,  gamma  Parlin !  ': 

Mrs.  Parlin  tried  hard  not  to  smile ;  but 
the  mixture  on  Flyaway's  little  face  of 
naughtiness,  jelly,  and  fright,  was  very 
funny  to  see. 

The  child  noticed  that  her  grandmoth 
er's  brows  knit  as  if  in  displeasure,  and 
then  she  remembered  the  jelly. 

"I  hasn't  been  a-touchin'  your  'serves, 
gamma,"  said  she. 

Mrs.  Parlin  really  did  not  know  what 
to  do,  —  Flyaway's  conscience  was  so  little 
and  folded  away  in  so  many  thicknesses, 
like  a  tiny  pearl  in  a  whole  box  of  cotton 
wool.  How  could  anybody  get  at  it? 

"Gamma,  I  hasn't  been  a-touchin'  your 
'serves,"  repeated  the  little  thief. 


36  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"Ah,  don't  tell  me  that,"  said  grandma, 
sadly ;  "  I  see  it  in  your  eye  ! " 

:'  What,  gamma,  the  'serves  in  my  eye  ?  " 
said  Flyaway,  putting  up  her  finger  to  find 
out  for  herself.  '  'Cause  I  put  'em  in  my 
mouf,  I  did." 

Mrs.  Parlin  washed  the  little  pilferer's 
face  and  hands,  took  her  in  her  lap,  and 
tried  to  feel  her  way  through  the  cotton 
wool  to  the  tiny  conscience. 

The  child  looked  up  and  listened  to  all 
the  good  words,  and  when  they  had  been 
spoken  over  and  over,  this  was  what  she 
said :  — 

"  O,  gamma,  you's  got  such  pitty  little 
wrinkles  1 " 


KUNNING  AWAY   TO   HEAVEN.  37 


CHAPTEE    III. 

• 

RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN. 

ABOUT  ten  o'clock  one  morning,  Flya 
way  was  sitting  in  the  little  green  cham 
ber  with  Dotty  Dimple  and  Jennie  Vance, 
bathing  her  doll's  feet  in  a  glass  of  water. 
Dinah  had  a  dreadful  headache,  and  her 
forehead  was  bandaged  with  a  red  ribbon. 

"  Does  you  feel  any  better  ?  "  asked  Fly 
away,  tenderly,  from  time  to  time  ;  but 
Dinah  had  such  a  habit  of  never  answering, 
that  it  was  of  no  use  to  ask  her  any 
questions. 

Dotty  Dimple  and  Jennie  were  talking 
very  earnestly. 


38  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"I  do  wish  I  did  know  where  Charlie 
Gray  is  !  "  said  Dotty,  looking  through  the 
open  window  at  a  bird  flying  far  aloft  into 
the  blue  sky. 

t?  You  do  know,"  answered  Jennie,  quick 
ly;  "he's  in  heaven." 

'Yes,  of  course;  but  so  high  up  —  O, 
so  high  up,"  sighed  Dotty,  "it  makes  you 
dizzy  to  think." 

"  Can  um  see  we  ? "  struck  in  little  Fly 
away,  holding  to  Dinah's  flat  nose  a  bottle 
of  reviving  soap  suds. 

"Prucly  says  it's  beautiful  to  be  dead," 
added  Dotty,  without  heeding  the  ques 
tion  ;  "  beautiful  to  be  dead." 

"  Shtop  !  "  cried  Flyaway ;  "  I's  a-talkin'. 
Does  um  see  ive  9 " 

"O,  I  don'  know,  Fly  Clifford  ;  you'll 
have  to  ask  the  minister." 

Flyaway  squeezed  the  water  from  Dinah's 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN.      39 

ragged  feet,  and  dropped  her  under  the 
table,  headache  and  all.  Then  she  tipped 
over  the  goblet,  and  flew  to  the  window. 

"  The  Charlie  boy  likes  canny  seeds ; 
I'll  send  him  some,"  said  she,  pinning  a 
paper  of  sugared  spices  to  the  window  cur 
tain,  and  drawing  it  up  by  means  of  the 
tassel.  "O,  dear,  um  don't  go  high  enough. 
Charlie  won't  get  'em." 

"Why,  what  is  that  baby  trying  to  do?" 
said  Dotty  Dimple. 

"  Charlie's  defful  high  up,"  murmured  Fly 
away,  heaving  a  little  sigh;  "can't  get  the 
canny  seeds." 

"  O,  what  a  Fly  !  How  big  do  you  s'pose 
her  mind  is,  Jennie  Vance?" 

"Big  as  a  thimble,  perhaps,"  replied 
Jennie ,  doubtfully. 

'  Why,  I  shouldn't  think,  now,  'twas 
any  larger  than  the  head  of  a  pin,"  said 


40  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Dotty,  with  decision ;  "  s'poses  heaven  is 
top  o'  this  room!  Why,  Jennie  Vance,  I 
persume  it's  ever  so  much  further  oft'  'n 
Mount  Blue  —  don't  you  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  indeed  !  What  queer  ideas 
such  children  do  have !  Flyaway  doesn't 
understand  but  very  little  we  say,  Dotty 
Dimple;  not  but  very  little." 

Flyaway  turned  round  with  one  of  her 
wise  looks.  She  thought  she  did  under 
stand  ;  at  any  rate  she  was  catching  every 
word,  and  stowing  it  away  in  her  little  bit 
of  a  brain  for  safe  keeping.  Heaven  was 
on  Mount  Blue.  She  had  learned  so  much. 

"But  I  knowed  it  by-fore,"  said  she  to 
herself,  with  a  proud  toss  of  the  silky 
plume  on  the  crown  of  her  head. 

rc  Shall  we  take  her  with  us  ? "  asked 
Jennie  Vance. 

Flyaway  listened   eagerly  ;     she   thought 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN.      41 

they  were  still  talking  of  heaven,  when 
in  truth  Jennie  only  meant  a  concert  which 
was  to  be  giveil  that  afternoon  at  the 
vestry. 

"Take  that  little  snip  of  a  child!"  re 
plied  Dotty ;  "  O,  no  ;  she  isn't  big  enough  ; 
'twouldn't  be  any  use  to  pay  money  for 
her!" 

With  which  very  cutting  remark  Dotty 
swept  out  of  the  room,  in  her  queenly 
way,  followed  by  Jennie.  Flyaway  threw 
herself  across  a  pillow,  and  moaned,  — 

"O,  dee,    dee!" 

Her  little  heart  was  ready  to  bleed  ; 
and  this  wasn't  the  first  time,  either. 
Those  great  big  girls  were  always  running 
away  from  her,  and  calling  her  "  goosies " 
and  "  snips  ;  "  and  now  they  meant  to  climb 
to  heaven,  where  Charlie  was,  and  leave 
her  behind. 


42  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

:?But  I  won't  stay  down  here  in  this 
place ;  I'll  go  to  heaven  too,  now,  cerdi- 
ly!  '  She  sprang  from  the  pillow  and 
•stood  on  one  foot,  like  a  strong-minded 
little  robin  that  will  not  be  trifled  with 
by  a  worm.  "I'll  go  too,  now,  cerdily." 

Having  made  up  her  mind,  she  hurried 
as  fast  as  she  could,  and  tucked  a  stick 
of  candy  in  her  pocket,  also  the  bottle  of 
soap  suds,  and  two  thirds  of  a  w  curly 
cookie  "  shaped  like  a  leaf.  "  Charlie  would 
be  so  glad  to  see  Fly-wer !  "  She  purred 
like  a  contented  kitten  as  she  thought  about 
it.  '  'Haps  they've  got  a  bossy-cat  up 
there,  and  a  piggy,  and  a  swing.  O,  my 
sholc  !  " 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  Flya 
way  must  overtake  the  girls,  and,  if  possi 
ble,  get  to  heaven  before  they  did.  She 
flew  about  like  a  distracted  butterfly. 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN.      43 

"  I  must  have  some  skipt ;  her  said  me's 
too  little  to  pay  for  money ; "  and  she  curled 
her  pretty  red  lip  ;  "but  I'm  isn't  much 
little;  man '11  want  some  skipt." 

For  she  fancied  somebody  standing  at 
the  door  of  heaven  holding  out  his  hand 
like  the  ticket-man  at  the  depot.  She 
found  her  mother's  purse  in  the  writing- 
desk,  and  scattered  its  contents  into  the 
w~ash-bowl,  then  picked  out  the  wettest 
"  skipt,"  a  five-dollar  bill,  and  tucked  it 
into  her  bosom.  This  would  make  it  all 
right  at  the  door  of  heaven. 

"Now  my  spetty-curls,"  she  added,  hunt 
ing  in  the  "uppest  drawer"  till  she  found 
the  eyeless  spectacles  used  for  playing  "  old 
lady."  With  these  on,  Flyaway  thought 
she  could  see  the  way  a  great  deal  better. 
Horace's  boots  would  help  her  up  hill ; 
so  she  jumped  into  those,  and  clattered 


44  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

down  the  back  stairs  with  Dinah  under 
her  arm. 

There  was  nobody  in  the  kitchen,  for 
Euthie  was  down  cellar  sweeping.  Flya 
way  caught  her  shaker  off  the  "  short  nail," 
and  stole  out  without  being  seen.  Sitting 
in  the  sun  on  the  piazza  was  the  "  blue " 
kittie.  "  Finkin'  'bout  a  mouse,  I  spect," 
said  little  Flyaway,  seizing  her  and  blow 
ing  open  her  eyes  like  a  couple  of  rose 
buds. 

"Does  you  know  where  I's  a-goin'?  Up 
to  heaven.  We  don't  let  tinty  folks,  like 
cats,  go  to  heaven." 

Pussy  winked  sorrowfully  at  this,  and 
baby's  tender  heart  was  touched. 

:?Yes,  we  does,"  said  she  ;  "but  you 
musn't  scwatch  the  Charlie  boy ; "  and  she 
tucked  the  "tinty  folks"  under  her  left 
arm.  Then  all  was  ready,  and  the  little 
pilgrim  started  for  heaven. 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN.      45 

"  Urn's  on  the  toppest  hill,"  said  she, 
looking  at  the  far-off  mountains,  reaching 
up  against  the  blue  sky.  One  mountain 
was  much  higher  than  the  others,  and  on 
that  she  fixed  her  eye.  It  was  Mount 
Blue,  and  was  really  twenty  miles  away. 
If  Flyaway  should  ever  reach  that  cloud- 
capped  peak,  it  was  not  her  wee,  wee  feet 
which  would  carry  her  there.  But  the  baby 
had  no  idea  of  distances.  She  went  out 
of  the  yard  as  fast  as  the  big  boots  would 
allow.  She  felt  as  brave  as  a  little  fly 
trying  to  walk  the  whole  length  of  the 
Chinese  Wall. 

Where  were  Dotty  Dimple  and  Jennie 
Vance?  O,  they  were  halfway  to  heaven 
by  this  time ;  she  must  "  hurry  quick." 

The  fact  was,  they  were  "up  in  the 
Pines,"  picking  strawberries.  Nobody  saw 
Flyaway  but  a  caterpillar. 


46  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"O,  my  shole  !  there's  a  catty-pillow  — 
what  he  want,  you  fink?" 

Kitty  winked  and  Dinah  sulked,  but 
there  was  110  reply. 

The  next  thing  they  met  was  a  grass 
hopper.  "  O,  dee,  a  gas-papa  I  Where 
you  s'pose  urn  goin'  ?  " 

Kitty  winked  again   and   Dinah  sulked. 

Flyaway  answered  her  own  question. 
"Diny,  dat  worm  gone  see  his  mamma." 

Dinah  did  not  care  anything  about  the 
family  feelings  of  the  "  worms ; "  so  she 
kept  her  reel  silk  mouth  shut  ;  but  she 
grew  very  heavy — so  heavy,  indeed,  that 
once  her  little  mother  dropped  her  in  the 
sand,  but  'picking  her  up,  shook  her  and 
trudged  on.  Presently  she  dropped  some 
thing  else,  and  this  time  it  was  the  kitty. 
Flyaway  turned  about  in  dismay. 

tc  Shtop,"  cried  she,  scowling  through  her 


RUNNING  AWAY  TO  HEAVEN.       47 

"  spetty-curls,"  as  she  saw  three  white  paws 
and  one  blue  one  go  tripping  over  the 
road.  "  Shtop  !  "  But  the  paws  kept  on. 

"O,  Diny,"  said  Flyaway,  as  pussy's  tail 
disappeared  round  a  corner,  —  "O,  Diny, 
her  don't  want  to  go  to  heaven ! " 

Then  Flyaway  sat  down  in  the  sand, 
and  pulled  off  one  of  the  big  boots. 

"  Urn  won't  walk,"  said  she ;  but,  before 
she  had  time  to  pull  off  the  second  one, 
a  dog  came  along  and  frightened  her  so 
she  tried  to  run,  though  she  only  hopped 
on  one  foot,  and  dragged  the  other.  She 
did  not  know  what  the  matter  was  till  she 
fell  down  and  the  boot  came  off  of  itself, 
after  which  she  could  walk  very  well. 
What  cared  she  that  both  "  Hollis's  "  new 
boots  were  left  in  the  road,  ready  to  be 
crushed  by  wagon  wheels? 

She  kept  on  and  kept  on;    but  where 


48  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

was  that  blue  hill  going  to?  It  moved 
faster  than  she  did. 

"  Makes  me  povokin'/'  said  she,  giving 
Dinah  a  shake.  "Tim  runs  away  and  away, 
and  all  off!" 

Sometimes  she  remembered  she  was  going 
to  heaven,  and  sometimes  she  forgot  it.  She 
was  on  the  way  to  the  "Pines,"  and  many 
little  flowers  grew  by  the  road-side.  She 
began  to  pick  a  few,  but  the  thorns  on  the 
raspberry  bushes  tore  her  tender  hands, 
and  one  of  the  naughty  branches  caught 
Dinah  by  the  frizzly  hair,  and  carried  her 
under.  What  did  Flyaway  spy  behind 
the  bushes  ?  Dotty  Dimple  and  Jennie 
Vance.  They  were  eating  wintergreen 
leaves ;  they  did  not  see  her.  Flyaway 
kept  as  still  as  if  she  were  sitting  for  a 
photograph,  picked  up  Dinah,  gave  her  a 
hug,  and  crept  on. 


RUNNING   AWAY   TO   HEAVEN.  49 

She  went  so  quietly  that  nobody  heard 
her.  When  she  was  out  of  sight  she  purred 
for  joy.  She  had  got  ahead  of  the  girls 
on  the  way  to  heaven  !  She  took  the  stick 
of  candy  out  of  her  pocket  and  nibbled  it 
to  celebrate  the  occasion.  "  A  little  hump 
backed  bumblebee "  saw  her  do  it.  He 
wanted  some  too,  and  followed  Flyaway 
as  if  she  had  been  a  moving  honeysuckle. 
For  half  a  mile  or  more  she  "  gaed "  and 
she  "gaed,"  all  the  while  nibbling  the 
candy;  but  now  she  was  growing  very 
tired,  and  did  it  to  comfort  herself.  Sud 
denly  she  remembered  it  was  Charlie's  can 
dy.  She  held  it  up  to  her  tearful  eyes. 

"O  dee,'"  said  she,  "it  was  big,  but  it 
keeps  a-gettin'  little  ! " 

The  hungry  bumblebee,  who  was  just 
behind  her,  thought  this  was  his  last  chance  : 
so  he  pounced  down  upon  Charlie's  candy; 
4 


50  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

and  being  cross,  and  not  knowing  Flyaway 
from  any  other  little  girl,  he  stung  her  on 
the  thumb.  Then  how  she  cried,  "Orny 
'ting  me  !  'Orny  'ting  me  ! "  for  she  had 
been  treated  just  so  before  by  a  hornet. 
w  O  my  dee  mamma  !  My  dee  mamma  !  " 
But  her  "dee"  mamma  could  not  hear 
her;  she  was  in  the  city  of  Augusta;  and 
as  for  the  rest  of  the  family,  they  supposed 
Flyaway  was  playing  "  catch "  with  Dotty 
Dimple  in  the  barn. 


A   RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  51 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A  RAILROAD    SAVAGE." 


IT  now  occurred  to  little  Flyaway,  with 
a  sudden  pang,  that  she  must  have  come 
to  the  end  of  the  world.  'Yes,  cerdily!" 
The  world  was  full  of  folks  and  houses, 
—  this  place  was  nothing  but  trees.  The 
world  had  horses  and  wagons  in  it, — this 
place  hadn't.  «  O  dee  I  " 

Where  was  the  hill  gone,  on  the  top  of 
which  stood  that  big  house  they  called  heav 
en,  —  the  house  where  Charlie  lived  and 
played  in  the  garden?  Why,  that  hill  had 
just  walked  off,  and  the  house  too  !  She  part 
ed  the  bushes  and  peeped  through.  Nothing 


52  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

to  be  seen  but  trees.  Flyaway  began  to  cry 
from  sheer  fright,  as  well  as  pain.  r  Tis 
a  defful  day  !  I  can't  stay  in  this  day  !  " 

More  trouble  had  come  to  her  than  she 
knew  how  to  bear;  but  worst  of  all  was 
the  cruel  stab  of  the  bumblebee.  She 
pitied  her  aching  M  fum,"  and  kissed  it 
herself  to  make  it  feel  better;  but  all  in 
vain ;  "  the  pain  kept  on  and  on ; "  the 
"fum"  grew  big  as  fast  as  the  candy  had 
grown  little. 

K  Somebody  don't  take  'are  o'  me,"  wailed 
she ;  "  somebody  gone  off,  lef  me  alone  ! " 

She  was  dreadfully  hungry.  t?  When  was 
it  be  dinner  time?"  She  would  not  have 
been  in  the  least  surprised,  but  very  much 
pleased,  if  a  bird  had  flown  down  with  a 
plate  of  roast  lamb  in  his  bill,  and  set  it 
on  the  ground  before  her.  Simple  little 
Flyaway !  Or  if  her  far-away  mother  had 


A   RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  53 

sprung  out  from  behind  a  tree  with  a  bed 
in  her  arms,  the  tired  baby  would  have 
jumped  into  the  bed  and  asked  no  ques 
tions. 

But  nothing  of  the  sort  came  to  pass. 
Here  she  was,  without  any  heaven  or  any 
mother;  and  the  great  yellow  sun  was 
creeping  fast  down  the  sky. 

"I'm  tired  out  and  sleepy  out,"  wailed 
the  young  traveller,  the  tears  rolling  over 
the  rims  of  her  "  spetty-curls,"  —  "  all  sleepy 
out;  and  I  can't  get  rested  'thout  —  my  — 
muwer ! " 

She  sat  down  and  hid  her  head  in  her 
black  dolly's  bosom. 

"Diny,  you  got  some  ears?  We  wasn't 
here  by-fore  ! " 

This  was  all  the  way  she  had  of  saying 
she  was  lost. 

The  sky  suddenly  grew  dark;  a  shower 
was  coming  up. 


54  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

'  Where  has  the  bwight  sun  gone  ?  "  said 
Flyaway,  with  a  shudder. 

She  was  answered  by  a  peal  of  thunder, 
' — wagon- wheels,  she  supposed. 

"Here  I   is!"  shouted  she. 

Some  one  had  come  for  her.  Perhaps 
it  was  Charlie,  and  they  meant  to  give  her 
a  ride  up  to  heaven.  A  flash  of  light,  and 
then  another  crash.  Flyaway  understood 
it  then.  It  was  logs.  People  were  rolling 
logs  up  in  the  sky,  on  the  blue  floor.  She 
had  seen  logs  in  a  mill.  Such  a  noise  ! 

Then  she  dropped  fast  asleep,  and  some 
body  came  right  down  out  of  the  clouds 
and  gave  her  a  peach  turnover  as  big  as 
a  dinner  basket,  or  so  she  thought.  Just 
as  she  was  about  to  eat  it,  she  was  awa 
kened  by  the  rain  dripping  into  her  eyes. 
She  started  up,  exclaiming,  "  If  you  pees 
urn,  I  want  some  cheese  um." 


A    RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  55 

But  the  turnover  had  gone  !  Then  the 
feeling  of  desolation  swept  over  her  again. 
She  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
and  dinner,  and  mother,  and  heaven  had 
all  gone  off  and  left  her. 

"  O,  Diny,"  sobbed  she,  turning  to  her 
unfeeling  dolly  for  sympathy.  "  I's  free 
years  old,  and  you's  one  years  old.  Don't 
you  want  to  go  to  heaven,  Diny,  and  sit 
in  God's  lap?  What  a  great  big  lap  he 
must  have  ! " 

A  gust  of  wind  lifted  the  frizzles  on 
Dinah's  forehead,  but  that  was  all. 

"O  dee,  dee,  dee!  you  don't  hear  nuffin 
't  all,  Diny,"  said  Flyaway  — the  only  sen 
sible  remark  she  had  made  that  day.  It 
was  of  no  use  talking  to  Dinah ;  so  she 
began  to  talk  to  herself. 

"What    you    matter,    Flywer   Clifford?" 


56  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

said  she,  scowling  to  keep  her  courage  up. 
"What  you  matter?" 

And  after  she  had  said  that,  she  cried 
harder  than  ever,  and  crept  under  the 
bushes,  moaning  like  a  wounded  lamb. 

"  I'm  defful  wetter,  but  I'm  colder'n  I's 
wetter ;  makes  me  shivvle  !  " 

After  a  while  the  clouds  had  poured  out 
all  the  rain  there  was  in  them,  and  left 
the  sky  as  clear  as  it  was  before ;  but  by 
that  time  the  sun  had  gone  to  bed,  and 
the  little  birds  too,  sending  out  their  good 
nights  from  tree  to  tree.  Then  the  new 
moon  came,  and  peeped  over  the  shoulder 
of  a  hill  at  Flyaway.  She  sprang  out  from 
the  bushes  like  a  rabbit. 

"O,  my  shole  !  "  cried  she,  clapping  her 
hands,  "the  sun's  earned  again!  A  little 
bit  o?  sun.  I  sawed  it !  " 

Inspired     with     new    courage,    she     and 


A   RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  57 

Dinah  concluded  to  start  for  home ;  that 
is  to  say,  they  turned  round  three  or 
four  times,  and  then  struck  off  into  the 
woods. 

Now  you  may  be  sure  all  this  could  not 
happen  without  causing  great  alarm  at 
grandpa  Parlin's.  When  the  dinner  bell 
rang,  everybody  asked,  twice  over,  "Why, 
where  is  little  Fly?"  and  Dotty  Dimple 
answered,  as  innocently  as  if  it  were  none 
of  her  affairs,  — 

"Why,  isn't  she  in  the  house?  We 
s'posed  she  was.  Jennie  Vance  and  I  have 
just  been  out  in  the  garden,  under  your 
little  crying  willow,  making  a  wreath. 
Thought  she  was  in  the  barn,  or  some 
where." 

"But  you  haven't  been  in  the  garden  all 
the  while?" 


58  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  No  'm ;  once  we  went  up  in  the  Pines, 
—  grandma,  you  said  we  might,  —  but  we 
haven't  seen  Fly,  —  why,  we  haven't  seen 
her  for  the  longest  while ! " 

Grace  had  dropped  her  knife  and  fork 
and  was  looking  pale. 

"It  was  Susy  and  I  that  had  the  care 
of  her,  grandma ;  when  you  went  out  to 
see  the  sick  lady,  you  charged  us,  and 
we  forgot  all  about  it." 

"Pretty  works,  I  should  think!"  cried 
Horace,  springing  out  of  his  chair  ;  "I 
wouldn't  sell  that  baby  for  her  weight  in 
gold;  but  I  reckon  you  would,  Grace  Clif 
ford,  and  be  glad  of  it,  too." 

Grandma  held  up  a  warning  finger.  "I 
declare,"  said  aunt  Louise,  very  much  agi 
tated,  "I  never  shall  consent  to  have  Maria 
go  out  of  town  again,  and  leave  Katie  with 
us.  If  she  will  try  to  swim  in  the  watering- 


A   RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  59 

trough,  she  is  just  as  likely  to  take  a  walk 
on  the  ridgepole  of  the  house." 

Horace  darted  out  of  the  room  with  a 
ghastly  face,  but  came  back  looking  re 
lieved.  He  had  been  up  in  the  attic,  and 
climbed  through  the  scuttle,  without  find 
ing  any  human  Fly  on  the  roof,  or  on  the 
dizzy  tops  of  the  chimneys,  either. 

But  where  was  the  child?  Had  Euth 
seen  her  ?  Had  Abiier  ? 

No ;  the  last  that  could  be  remembered, 
she  had  been  playing  by  herself  in  the 
green  chamber,  soaking  Dinah's  feet  in  a 
glass  of  water.  The  ff  blue  kitty,"  the  only 
creature  who  had  anything  to  tell,  sat 
washing  her  face  on  the  kitchen  hearth, 
and  yawning  sleepily.  Fly's  shaker  was 
gone  from  the  "short  nail,"  and  aunt  Lou 
ise  discovered  some  bank-bills  in  a  wash 
bowl, —  "Fly's  work,  of  course."  But  this 
was  all  thev  knew. 


60  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Grandpa  searched  the  barn,  Abner  the 
fields,  Euth  the  cellar  ;  aunt  Louise  and 
Horace  ran  down  to  the  river.  In  half 
an  hour  several  of  the  neighbors  had  joined 
in  the  search. 

"I  always  thought  there  would  be  a  last 
time,"  said  poor  Mrs.  Dr.  Gray,  putting 
on  her  black  bonnet,  and  joining  Grace 
and  Susy.  :?That  child  seems  to  me  like 
a  little  spirit,  or  a  fairy,  and  I  never  thought 
she  would  live  long.  She  and  Charlie 
were  too  lovely  for  this  world." 

«O,  don't,  Mrs.  Gray,"  said  Grace.  "If 
you  knew  how  often  she'd  been  lost,  you 
would  not  say  so !  We  always  find  her, 
after  a  while,  somewhere." 

Horace,  who  had  gone  on  in  advance, 
now  came  running  back,  swinging  his  boots 
in  the  air. 

"  A  trail ! "  cried  he.     "  I've  found  a  trail ! 


A   RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  61 

Who  planted  these  boots  in  the  road,  if 
it  wasn't  Fly  Clifford?" 

"  Perhaps  she  has  gone  to  aunt  Mar 
tha's,"  said  Mrs.  Parlin,  w  or  tried  to. 
Strange  we  did  not  think  of  that!" 

But  aunt  Martha  had  not  seen  her,  nor 
had  any  one  else.  Horace  and  Abner  went 
up  to  the  Pines,  but  the  forest  beyond  they 
never  thought  of  exploring  ;  it  did  not 
seem  probable  that  such  a  small  child 
could  have  strolled  to  such  a  distance  as 
that. 

Supper  time  came  and  went.  There  was 
a  short  thunder-shower.  The  Parlins  shud 
dered  at  every  flash  of  lightning,  and  shiv 
ered  at  every  drop  of  rain ;  for  where  was 
delicate,  lost  little  Fly? 

Abner  and  Horace  were  out  during  the 
shower.  Horace  would  have  braved  hur- 


62  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

ricanes  and  avalanches  in  the  cause  of  his 
dear  little  Topknot. 

'  There's  one  thing  we  haven't  thought 
of,"  said  Abner,  shaking  the  drops  from 
his  hat  and  looking  up  at  the  sky,  which 
had  cleared  again ;  "  we  haven't  thought  of 
the  railroad  surveyors  !  They  are  round 
the  town  everywhere  with  their  compasses 
and  spy-glasses." 

It  was  not  a  bad  idea  of  Abner's.  He 
and  Horace  went  to  the  hotel  where  the 
railroad  men  boarded.  The  engineer's  face 
lighted  at  once. 

"I  wish  I  had  known  before  there  was 
a  child  missing,"  he  said.  "  I  saw  the 
figure  of  a  little  girl,  through  my  glass, 
not  an  hour  ago.  It  was  a  long  way  be 
yond  the  Pines,  and  I  wondered  how  such 
a  baby  happened  up  there ;  but  I  had  so 


A  RAILROAD   SAVAGE.  63 

much  else  to  think  of  that  it  passed  out 
of  my  mind." 

About  eight  o'clock,  Flyaway  was  found 
in  the  woods,  sound  asleep,  under  a  hem 
lock  tree,  her  faithful  Dinah  hugged  close 
to  her  heart. 

There  was  a  shout  from  a  dozen  mouths. 
Horace's  eyes  overflowed.  He  caught  his 
beloved  pet  in  his  arms. 

"O,  little  Topknot!"  he  cried.  "Who's 
got  you  ?  Look  up,  look  up,  little  Brown- 
brimmer." 

All  Flyaway  could  do  was  to  sob  gently, 
and  then  curl  her  head  down  on  her  broth 
er's  shoulder,  saying,  sleepily,  w  Cold,  ou' 
doors  stayin'." 

'  Why  did  our  darling  run  away  ? " 

"Didn't  yun  away  ;  I's  goin'  up  to 
heaven  see  Charlie,"  replied  Flyaway,  sud 
denly  remembering  the  object  of  her  jour- 


64  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

ney,  and  gazing  around  at  Abner,  Dr. 
Gray,  and  the  other  people,  with  eyes  full 
of  wonder.  :?  Where's  the  tpppest  hill?  I's 
goin'  up,  carry  Charlie  some  canny." 

The  people  formed  a  line,  and,  as  Prudy 
said,  "  processed  "  behind  Katie  all  the  way 
to  the  village. 

"Is  we  goin' to  heaven?"  said  the  child, 
still  bewildered.  "It  yunned  away  and 
away,  and  all  off!" 

"  No,  you  blessed  baby,  you  are  not 
going  to  heaven  just  yet,  if  we  can  help 
it,"  answered  Dr.  Gray,  leaning  over  Hor 
ace's  shoulder  to  kiss  the  child. 

Flyaway  was  too  tired  to  ask  any  more 
questions.  She  let  first  one  person  carry 
her,  and  then  another,  sometimes  holding 
up  her  swollen  thumb,  and  murmuring, 
"'Orny  'ting  me  —  tell  my  mamma."  And 
after  that  she  was  asleep  again. 


A   RAILROAD    SAVAGE.  65 

Dotty  Dimple,  Susy,  and  Prudy  were 
pacing  the  piazza  when  the  party  arrived, 
but  poor  grandma  was  on  the  sofa  in  the 
parlor,  quite  overcome  with  anxiety  and 
fatigue,  and  Miss  Polly  Whiting  was  mourn 
fully  fanning  her  with  a  black  feather  fan. 
The  sound  of  voices  roused  Mrs.  Parlin. 
"  Safe  !  safe  ! "  was  the  cry.  Dotty  Dim 
ple  rushed  in,  shouting,  "  A  railroad  sav 
age  found  her  !  a  railroad  savage  found 
her ! " 

In  another  moment  the  runaway  was  in 
her  grandmother's  lap.  All  she  could  say 
was,  "  'Orny  'ting  me  on  my  fum !  'Orny 
'ting  me  on  my  fum ! "  For  this  one 
little  bite  of  a  bee  seemed  greater  to  Fly 
away  Clifford  than  all  the  dangers  she  had 
passed.  If  grandma  would  only  kiss  her 
"fum,"  it  was  no  matter  about  going  to 
heaven,  or  even  being  undressed. 
5 


66  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FYLAWAY. 

But  after  she  had  had  a  bowl  of  bread 
and  milk,  and  been  nicely  bathed,  she  for 
got  her  sufferings,  and  laughed  in  her 
sleep.  She  was  dreaming  how  Charlie 
came  to  the  door  of  heaven  and  helped 
her  up  the  steps. 


EAST    AGAIN.  67 


CHAPTER    V. 

EAST   AGAIN. 

A  WHOLE  year  passed.  Dotty  Dimple 
became  a  school-girl,  with  a  "bosom  friend" 
and  a  pearl  ring.  Prudy,  who  called  her 
self  "  the  middle-aged  sister,"  grew  tall  and 
slender.  Katie  was  four  years  old,  and 
just  a  little  heavier,  so  she  no  longer 
needed  a  cent  in  her  pocket  to  keep  her 
from  blowing  away. 

The  Parlins  had  been  at  Willowbrook  a 
week  before  the  Cliffords  arrived.  There 
was  a  great  sensation  over  Katie.  She  was 
delighted  to  hear  that  she  had  grown  more 
than  any  of  the  others. 


68  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  I'm  gettin'  old  all  over ! "  said  she, 
gayly.  "  Four  —  goin'  to  be  five  !  Wish 
I  was  most  six.  Dotty  Dimpul,  don't  you 
wish  y ou's  most  a  hunderd  ?" 

"  O,  you  cunning  little  cousin ! "  said 
Dotty,  embracing  her  rapturously ;  "  I  wish 
you  loved  me  half  as  well  as  I  love  you; 
that's  what  I  wish.  I  told  Tate  Penny 
you  were  prettier  than  Tid  ;  and  so  you 
are.  Such  red  cheeks !  But  what  makes 
one  cheek  redder  than  the  other  ? " 

"O,  I  eat  my  bread '11'  milk  that  side  o' 
my  mouf,"  replied  Flyaway;  "and  that's 
why."  . 

"  What  an  idea !  And  your  hair  is  just 
as  fine  as  ever  it  was ;  the  color  of  my 
ring  —  isn't  it,  Prudy?" 

Flyaway  put  her  little  hand  to  her  head, 
and  felt  the  floss  flying  about  as  usual. 

"My  hair  comes  all  to  pieces,"  explained 


EAST   AGAIN.  69 

she ;  "  or  nelse  I  have  a  ribbon  to  tie  it 
up  with." 

"  Are  you  glad  to  come  back  to  Willow- 
brook,  you  precious  little  dear?"  asked 
two  or  three  voices. 

'  Yes  'm,"  said  Flyaway,  doubtfully ; 
«  Y  —  es  —  urn," 

"  She  doesn't  remember  anything  about 
it,  I  guess,"  said  Prudy,  kneeling  before 
the  little  one,  and  kissing  the  sweet  place 
in  her  neck. 

:'Yes,  I  do,"  said  Flyaway,  winking 
hard  and  breathing  quick  in  the  effort  to 
recall  the  very  dim  and  very  distant  past ; 
"yes,  I  'member." 

'  Well,  what  do  you  'member?" 

"  O,  once  I  was  grindin'  coffee  out  there 
in  a  yellow  chair,  and  somebody  she  came 
and  put  me  in  the  sink." 

"  She   does   know  —  doesn't    she  ?  "    said 


70  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Dotty.  "  That  was  Euthie  ;  come  out  in 
the  kitchen  and  see  her/' 

But  when  Flyaway  first  looked  into  Euth's 
smiling  face,  with  its  black  eyes  and  sharp 
nose,  she  could  not  remember  that  she  had 
ever  seen  it  before.  Abner,  too,  was 
strange  to  her. 

"Come  here,"  said  he,  "and  I  can  tell 
in  a  minute  if  you  are  a  good  little  girl." 

Flyaway  cast  down  her  soft  eyes,  and 
sidled  along  to  Abner. 

"Here,  touch  this  watch,"  said  he,  "and 
if  you  are  a  good  little  girl  it  will  fly  open ; 
if  you  are  naughty  it  will  stay  shut." 

Flyaway  looked  askance  at  Abner,  her 
finger  in  her  mouth,  but  dared  not  touch 
the  watch. 

"Who'd  'a  thought  it,  now?"  said  Ab 
ner,  pretending  to  be  shocked.  "  Looks 
to  be  a  nice  child ;  but  of  course  she  isn't, 


EAST   AGAIN.  71 

or  she'd  come  right  up  and  open  the 
watch." 

Flyaway  thrust  another  finger  in  her 
mouth,  and  pressed  her  eyelids  slowly  to 
gether.  Abner  did  not  understand  this, 
but  it  meant  that  he  had  not  treated  her 
with  proper  respect. 

"Here,  Ruth,"  said  he,  in  a  low  tone, 
"  hand  me  one  of  your  plum  tarts ;  that'll 
fetch  her. — Come  here,  my  pretty  one, 
and  see  what's  inside  of  this  little  pie." 

Flyaway  was  very  hungry.  She  took  a 
step  forward,  and  held  her  hand  out,  though 
rather  timidly. 

"But  she  mustn't  eat  it  without  asking 
her  mamma,"  said  Ruth. 

'Yes  ;  O,  yes,"  cried  Miss  Flyaway, 
opening  her  little  mouth  for  the  first  time, 
and  shutting  it  again  over  a  big  bite  of 
tart ;  "  I  want  to  eat  it  and  s'prise  my 


mamma." 


72  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Abner  laughed  in  his  hearty  fashion. 
"  Some  of  the  old  mischief  left  there  yet," 
said  he,  catching  Flyaway  and  tossing  her 
to  the  ceiling.  "  Have  you  come  here  this 
summer  to  keep  the  whole  house  in  com 
motion  ?  Remember  the  Charlie  boy  — 
don't  you  —  that  had  the  meal-bags  tied 
to  his  feet  ?" 

"Did  he?     What   for?" 

Flyaway  had  not  the  least  recollection 
of  Charlie ;  but  Horace  had  talked  to  her 
about  him,  and  she  said,  after  a  moment's 
thought,  — 

r  Yes,  he  washed  the  pig.  Me  and 
Charlie,  we  played  all  everything  what  we 
thinked  about." 

"  So  you  did,  surely,"  said  a  woman 
who  had  just  come  in  at  the  back  door, 
and  begun  to  drop  kisses,  as  sad  as  tears, 
on  Flyaway's  forehead.  "  Do  you  know 


EAST   AGAIN, 


73 


who  this  is  ?  "  Flyaway  looked  up  with  a 
sweet  smile,  but  her  mind  had  lost  all  im 
pression  of  her  melancholy  friend,  Miss 
Whiting.  "Look  again,"  said  the  sad- 
eyed  stranger,  who  did  not  like  to  have 
even  a  little  child  forget  her;  "you  used 
to  call  me  the  'Polly  woman." 

Katie  looked  again,  and  this  time  very 
closely. 

"There's  a  great  deal  o'  yellowness  in 
your  face,"  exclaimed  she,  after  a  careful 
survey ;  "  but  you  was  made  so  !  " 

Miss  Polly  laughed  drearily.  "  So  you 
don't  remember  how  I  took  you  out  of 
the  watering-trough,  you  sweet  lamb!  Ts 
try  in'  to  swim,'  you  said ;  ?  and  that's  what 
is  it.'  Here's  a  summer-sweeting  for  you, 
dear;  do  you  like  them?" 

'  Yes  'm,  thank  you,"  said  Flyaway,  "  but 
I  like  summer-so urings  the  best." 


74  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

At  the  same  time  she  allowed  herself  to 
be  taken  in  Miss  Polly's  lap,  and  won  that 
tender-hearted  woman's  love  by  putting  her 
arms  round  her  neck,  and  saying,  "  Let 
me  kiss  you  so  you'll  feel  all  better.  What 
makes  you  have  tears  in  your  eyes?  —  tell 


me." 


c  We're  good  friends  —  I  knew  we 
should  be,"  said  Miss  Polly,  quite  cheerily. 
"  Look  out  of  the  window,  and  see  that 
swing.  How  many  times  I've  pushed  you 
and  Dotty  in  that  swing  when  it  seemed 

as  if  it  would  break   my   back !  " 

i 
Flyaway   looked   out.      There   stood   the 

two  trees,  and  between  them  hung  the  old 
swing;  but  the  charm  was  forgotten.  In 
the  field  beyond,  her  eye  fell  on  an  object 
more  interesting  to  her. 

"O,  O,"  said  she,  "  I  don't  see  how  God 
could  make  a  man  so  homebly  as  that !  " 


EAST   AGAIN.  75 

"So  homely  as  what?" 

:?  Why,"  laughed  Dotty,  "  she  means  that 


scarecrow." 


The  corn  was  up  long  ago,  but  one  dire 
ful  image  had  still  been  left  to  flaunt  in 
the  sunlight  and  soak  in  the  rain. 

"  That  isn't  a  man,"  said  Prudy ;  "  it's 
only  a  great  monstrous  rag  baby,  with  a 
coat  on." 

"  Put  there  to  frighten  away  the  crows," 
added  Miss  Polly.  ?  When  Abner  dropped 
corn  in  the  ground,  the  great  black  crows 
wanted  to  come  and  pick  it  out,  and  eat 
it  up." 

Flyaway  frowned  in  token  of  strong  dis 
like  to  the  crows.  "  I  wouldn't  eat  gam- 
pa's  corn  for  anything  in  this  world,"  said 
she,  —  "  'thout  it's  popped  !  'Cause  I  don't 
like  it." 

Miss  Polly  laughed   quite  merrily. 


76  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"There,"  said  she,  "I've  dropped  a  stitch 
in  my  side ;  it  never  agrees  with  me  to 
laugh.  I  must  be  going  right  home,  too; 
but  there  is  one  thing  more  I  want  to  ask 
you,  Katie ;  do  you  remember  how  you 
ran  away,  one  day,  and  frightened  the  whole 
house,  trying  to  climb  up  to  heaven?" 

Katie's  face  was  blank;  she  had  forgot 
ten  the  journey. 

'  You  passed  Jennie  Vance  and  me  in 
the  Pines,"  said  Dotty,  c?  and  went  deep 
into  the  woods,  and  a  bee  stung  you." 

"O,  now  I  'member,"  said  Katie,  sudden 
ly.  "  I  'member  the  bee  as  plain  as  'tever 
'twas  !  "  And  she  curled  her  lip  with  con 
tempt  for  that  small  Flyaway,  of  long  ago 
—  that  silly  baby  who  had  thought  heaven 
was  on  a  hill. 

"  /went  up  on  a  ladder  when  I  was  three 
years  old,"  said  Prudy. 


EAST   AGAIN.  77 

"Did  you?"  said  Flyaway.  This  was 
a  consolation.  "  Well,  I  was  three  years 
old,  too  ;  I  didn't  know  'bout  angels  — 
didn't  know  they  had  to  have  wings  on." 

Here  Flyaway  curled  her  lip  again  and 
smiled. 

"  You  are  wiser  now,"  sighed  Miss  Polly. 
"You  and  I  won't  try  to  go  to  heaven  till 
our  time  comes  —  will  we,  dear?" 

Katie  took  Miss  Polly's  large,  thin  hand, 
and  measured  it  beside  her  own  tiny  one. 

"  Miss  Polly,"  said  she,  with  one  of  her 
extremely  wise  looks,  "when  you  go  up 
to  God  you'll  be  a  very  little  girl ! " 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  "  said  Miss  Polly,  weaving 
the  third  pin  into  her  shawl  ;  "  how  do 
you  make  that  out  ?  " 

"Your  body'll  all  be  cut  off,"  replied 
Katie,  making  the  motion  of  a  pair  of  scis 
sors  with  her  fingers;  "all  be  cut  right 


78  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

straight  off;  there  won't  be  nuffin'  left  but 
just  your  little  spirit !  " 

"Since  you  know  so  much,  dear,  how 
large  is  rny  spirit?" 

Katie  put  her  hand  on  the  left  side  of 
the  belt  of  her  apron. 

"Don't  you  call  that  small,  right  under 
my  hand  a-beatin'?"  said  she.  "'Bout's 
big  as  a  bird,  Miss  Polly.  Little  round 
ball  for  a  head,  little  mites  o'  eyes ;  but 
you  won't  care  —  you  can  see  just  as  well." 

"  It  does  beat  all  where  children  get  such 
queer  ideas  —  doesn't  it,  Ruth?"  said  Miss 
Whiting. 

"Didn't  you  know  it?"  cried  Katie,  find 
ing  she  had  startled  Miss  Polly.  "Didn't 
you  know  you's  goin'  to  be  little,  and  fly 
in  the  air  just  so?"  throwing  up  her  arms. 
"I  want  to  go  dreffully,  for  there's  a  gold 
harp  o'  music  up  there,  and  I'll  play  on  it : 
it'll  be  mineY-' 


EAST    AGAIN.  79 

*You  don't  feel  in  a  hurry  to  die,  I 
hope,"  said  Miss  Polly,  anxiously. 

Katie's  eager  face  clouded.  "No,"  said 
she,  sorrowfully  ;  "I  want  to,  but  I  hate 
to  go  up  to  God  and  leave  my  pink  dress. 
I  can't  go  into  it  then,  I'll  be  so  little." 

"You'll  be  just  big  enough  to  go  into 
the  pocket,"  laughed  Dotty. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Miss  Polly,  gravely  ;  "  you 
shouldn't  joke  upon  such  serious  subjects. 
Good  by,  children.  Your  house  is  full  of 
company,  and  I  didn't  come  to  stay.  Here's 
a  bag  of  thoroughwort  I've  been  picking 
for  your  grandmother;  you  may  give  it  to 
her  with  my  love,  and  tell  her  my  side  is 
worse.  I  shall  be  in  to-morrow." 

So  saying,  Miss  Polly  went  away,  seem 
ing  to  be  wafted  out  of  the  room  on  a 
sigh. 

The  high-chair  was  brought  down   from 


80  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

the  attic  for  Flyaway,  who  sat  in  it  that 
evening  at  the  tea-table,  and  smiled  round 
upon  her  friends  in  the  most  benevolent 
manner. 

"I's  growing  so  big  now,  mamma,"  said 
she,  coaxingly,  "  don't  you  spect  I  must 
have  some  tea?" 

Grandmother  pleaded  for  the  youngest, 
too.  "  Let  me  give  her  some  just  this 
once,  Maria." 

!'Well,  white  tea,  then,"  returned  Mrs. 
Clifford,  smiling ;  "  and  will  Flyaway  re 
member  not  to  ask  for  it  again?  Mamma 
thinks  little  girls  should  drink  milk." 

"Yes  'm,  I  won't  never.  She  gives  it 
to  me  this  night,  'cause  I's  her  little  grand- 
girl.  Mayn't  Hollis  have  it  too,  'cause  he's 
her  little  grand-Joy  9" 

"Cunning  as  ever,  you  see,"  whispered 
the  admiring  Horace  to  cousin  Susy,  who 
replied,  rather  indifferently,  — 


EAST   AGAIN.  81 

"  No  cunninger  than  our  Prudy  used  to 
be." 

Flyaway  made  quick  work  of  drinking 
her  white  tea,  and  when  she  came  to  the 
last  few  drops  she  swung  her  cup  round 
and  round,  saying,  — 

"Didn't  you  know,  Hollis,  that's  the  way 
gampa  does,  when  he  gets  most  froo,  to 
make  it  sweet  ?  " 

No,  Horace  had  not  noticed;  it  was 
"Fly,  with  her  little  eye,"  who  saw  every 
thing,  and  made  remarks  about  it. 

"O,  O,"  cried  Grace,  dropping  her  knife 
and  fork,  and  patting  her  hands  softly 
under  the  table,  "  isn't  it  so  nice  to  be  at 
Willowbrook  again,  taking  supper  togeth 
er?  Doesn't  it  remind  you  of  pleasant 
things,  Susy,  to  eat  grandma's  cream  toast?" 

"Reminds  me,"  said  Susy,   after  reflect 
ing,  "  of  jumping  on  the  hay." 
6 


82  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"'Minds  me  of— of — "  remarked  Flya 
way;  and  there  she  fell  into  a  brown 
study,  with  her  head  swaying  from  side 
to  side. 

"I  don't  know  why  it  is,"  said  Prudy, 
"but  since  you  spoke,  this  cream  toast 
makes  me  think  of  the  rag-bag.  Excuse 
me  for  being  impolite,  grandma,  but  where 
is  the  rag-bag?  " 

"  In  the  back  room,  dear,  where  it  always 
is ;  and  you  may  wheel  it  off  to-morrow." 

It  had  been  Mrs.  Parlin's  custom,  once 
or  twice  every  summer,  to  allow  the  chil 
dren  to  take  the  large,  heavy  rag-bag  to 
the  store,  and  sell  its  contents  for  little 
articles,  which  they  divided  among  them 
selves.  Sometimes  the  price  of  the  rags 
amounted  to  half  or  three  quarters  of  a 
dollar,  and  there  was  a  regular  carnival  of 
figs,  candy,  and  firecrackers. 


EAST   AGAIN.  83 

Horace  was  so  much  older  now,  that 
he  did  not  fancy  the  idea  of  being  seen  in 
the  street,  trundling  a  wheel-barrow ;  but 
he  went  on  with  his  cream  toast  and  made 
no  remark. 


84  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


CHAPTEE    VI. 

THE    RAG-BAG. 

•  NEXT  morning  there  was  a  loud  call  from 
the  three  Paiiins  for  the  rag-bag,  in  which 
Flyaway  joined,  though  she  hardly  knew 
the  difference  between  a  rag-bag  and  a  paper 
of  pins. 

"I  wish  you  to  understand,  girls,"  said 
Horace,  flourishing  his  hat,  "that  I'm  not 
going  to  cart  round  any  such  trash  for  you 
this  summer." 

«  Now,  Horace  ! ?' 

"You  know,  Gracie,  you  belong  to  a 
Girls'  Rights'  Society.  Do  you  suppose  I 
want  to  interfere  with  your  privileges?" 


THE    RAG-BAG.  85 

"  Why,  Horace  Clifford,  you  wouldn't  see 
your  own  sister  trundling  a  wheelbarrow  ?  " 

"O,  no;  I  shan't  be  there,"  said  Horace, 
coolly ;  "  I  shan't  see  you.  I  promised  to 
weed  the  verbena  bed  for  your  aunt  Lou 
ise.  Good  by,  girls.  Success  to  the  rag- 
bag!" 

"  Let's  catch  him  !  "  cried  Susy,  darting 
after  her  ungallant  cousin ;  but  he  ran  so 
fast,  and  flourished  his  garden  hoe  so  reck 
lessly,  that  she  gave  up  the  chase. 

"Let  him  go,"  said  Grace,  with  a  fine- 
lady  air :  "  who  cares  about  rag-bags  ? 
We've  outgrown  that  sort  of  thing,  you 
and  I,  Susy;  let  the  little  girls  have  our 
share." 

'Yes,  to  be  sure,"  replied  Susy,  faintly, 
though  not  without  a  pang,  for  she  still 

retained  a  childish  fondness  for  jujube  paste, 

§ 

and  was  not  allowed  a  great  abundance  of 


86  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

pocket-money.  'Yes,  to  be  sure,  let  the 
little  girls  have  our  share." 

"Then  may  we  three  youngest  have  the 
whole  rag-bag?"  said  Prudy,  brightly. 
"Dotty,  you  and  I  will  trundle  the  wheel 
barrow,  and  Fly  shall  go  behind." 

"  What  an  idea  !  "  exclaimed  Grace.  "  I've 
seen  little  beggar  children  drawing  a  dog 
cart.  Grandma'll  never  allow  such  a  thing." 

*  Indeed  I  will,"  said  grandma,  tying  on 
her  checked  apron.  "  Dog-carts  or  wheel 
barrows,  so  they  only  take  care  not  to  be 
rude.  In  a  city  it  is  different." 

"Yes,  grandma,"  said  Dotty,  twisting  her 
front  hair  joyfully ;  "  but  here  in  the  coun 
try  they  want  little  girls  to  have  good 
times  —  don't  they?  Why  don't  every 
body  move  into  the  country,  do  you  s'pose  ? 
Lots  of  bare  spots  round  here, — nothing 
on  'em  but  cows." 


THE    RAG-BAG.  87 

'  Yes,  nuffin'  but  gampa's  cows,"  chimed 
in  Flyaway,  twisting  her  front  hair. 

"Louisa,"  said  Mrs.  Parlin,  "you  may 
help  me  about  this  loaf  of  '  Maine  plum 
cake,'  and  while  you  are  beating  the  butter 
and  sugar  I  will  look  over  the  rag-bag. 
Dotty,  please  run  for  my  spectacles." 

When  Dotty  returned  with  the  specta 
cles,  Jennie  Vance  came  with  her,  pouting 
a  little  at  the  cool  reception  she  had  met, 
and  thinking  Miss  Dimple  hardly  polite 
because  she  was  too  much  interested  in 
an  old  rag-bag  to  pay  proper  attention  to 
visitors. 

"  Grandma,  what  makes  you  pick  over 
these  rags  ?  .  We  can  take  them  just  as  they 


are." 


"I  always  do  so,  my  dear,  :nd  for  sev 
eral  reasons.  One  is,  that  woollen  pieces 
may  have  crept  in  by  mistake.  As  we 


88  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

profess  to  sell  cotton  rags,  it  would  be 
dishonest  to  mix  them  with  woollen." 

'  Yes  'm,  I  understand,"  said  Jennie,  who 
often  spoke  when  it  was  quite  as  well  to 
keep  silent ;  "  it's  always  best  to  be  honest 
—  isn't  it,  Mrs.  Parlin?" 

The  rags  were  spread  out  upon  the  ta;ble, 
giving  Flyaway  a  fine  opportunity  to  scat 
ter  them  right  and  left. 

"  O,  here's  a  splendid  piece  of  blue  rib 
bon  to  make  my  doll  a  bonnet,"  said  Dotty. 

?  That's  another  reason  why  she  picks 
'em  over,"  remarked  Jennie  ;  "  so  she  won't 
waste  things.  Only,  Dotty,  that  has  got 
an  awful  grease-spot." 

"There,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Parlin,  pres 
ently,  "I  have  taken  out  a  card  of  hooks 
and  eyes,  a  flannel  bandage,  and  a  shoe 
string.  You  may  have  everything  else." 

Dotty     caught    her    grandmother's     arm. 


THE   RAG-BAG.  89 

"Please,  grandma,  don't  sweep  'em  into 
the  bag;  let  us  look  some  more.  I've  just 
found  a  big  Lisle  glove ;  if  I  can  find  anoth 
er,  then  Abner  can  go  blackberrying ;  he 
says  his  hands  are  ever  so  tender." 

"And  you  thought  he  was  in  earnest," 
said  Prudy.  f  While  you  are  looking, 
I'll  go  into  the  nursery  and  finish  that 
holder." 

Flyaway,  having  climbed  upon  the  table, 
had  rolled  herself  into  some  mosquito  net 
ting,  like  a  caterpillar  in  a  cocoon.  They 
were  all  so  much  interested,  that  grandma, 
in  the  kindness  of  her  heart,  did  not  like 
to  disturb  them. 

'You  are  welcome  to  all  the  treasures 
you  can  find,  but  as  soon  as  the  cake  is 
made  I  shall  want  the  table ;  so  be  quick," 
said  she,  looking  out  from  the  pantry,  where 
she  was  beating  eggs. 


90  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

'Yes,  indeed,  grandma,  we'll  hurry;  and 
may  we  have  every  single  thing  we  like 
the  looks  of?  now,  honest." 

"Yes,   Dotty." 

Then  Mrs.  Parlin  and  Miss  Louise  talked 
about  currants,  and  citron,  and  quite  forgot 
such  trifles  as  rag-bags. 

"  Here's  another  big  glove,"  said  Dotty, 
"  not  the  same  color,  but  no  matter ;  and 
here  are  some  saddle-bags,  Jennie.  I'm 
going  to  be  a  doctor." 

"Saddle-bags,  Dotty!  those  are  pockets." 
Jennie  took  them  from  Miss  Dimple's  hands. 
They  were  held  together  by  a  narrow  strip 
of  brown  linen,  and  had  once  belonged  to 
a  pair  of  pantaloons. 

"I'm  going  to  see  if  there  isn't  some 
thing  inside,"  said  Jennie.  *  Why,  yes, 
here's  a  raisin,  true's  you  live.  And  here, 
in  the  other  one,  —  0,  Dotty  !  " 


THE    RAG-BAG.  91 

But  Dotty  had  run  into  the  nursery  to 
show  Prudy  a  muslin  cap. 

"A  wad  of—" 

Jennie  was  determined  to  see  what ;  so 
she  unrolled  it. 

"  Scrip,"  cried  she,  holding  up  some 
greenbacks. 

"  Skipt,"  echoed  Flyaway,  who  had  come 
out  of  the  cocoon  and  gone  into  the  form 
of  a  mop,  her  head  adorned  with  cotton 
fringe. 

Yes ;  '  a  two  dollar  bill  and  a  one  dollar 
bill,  as  green  as  lettuce  leaves.  This  was 
a  great  marvel.  Columbus  was  not  half 
so  much  surprised  when  he  discovered 
America. 

"Mrs.  Parlin,  do  you  hear?" 

But  Mrs.  Parlin  heard  nothing,  for  the 
din  of  the  egg-beating  drowned  both  the 
shrill  little  voices. 


92  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

A  sudden  idea  carne  to  Jennie.  Whose 
money  was  this?  Mrs.  Parlin's?  No  ;  hadn't 
Mrs.  Parlin  looked  over  the  rags  once, 
and  said  the  children  might  have  what  was 

left  ?     "  ?  You  are  welcome  to  all  the  treas- 

< 

ures  you  can  find ;  '  that  was  what  she 
said,"  repeated  Jennie  to  herself.  "  I'm  the 
one  that  found  this  treasure,  —  not  Dotty, 
not  Flyaway.  This  is  honest,  and  I  do  not 
lie  when  I  say  it." 

Jennie  began  to  tremble,  and  a  hot  color 
flew  into  her  cheeks,  and  added  ne*w  lustre 
to  her  black  eyes.  "If  I  could  only  make 
Flyaway  forget  it,"  thought  she,  with  a 
whirling  sensation  of  anger  towards  the  in 
nocent  child,  who  knew  no  better  than  to 
proclaim  aloud  every  piece  of  news  she 
heard.  "I'll  make  her  forget  it."  Jenny 
hastily  concealed  the  money  in  the  neck  of 
her  dress. 


THE   RAG-BAG.  93 

"Where's  that  skipt?  that  skipt?"  said 
Flyaway. 

"  Fly  Clifford,"  said  Jennie,  severely, 
"you've  climbed  on  the  table!  Just  think 
of  it!  Your  grandmother  doesn't  allow 
you  on  her  table.  What  made  you  get  up 
here." 

"'Cause,"  replied  Flyaway,  seizing  the 
kitty  by  the  tail,  and  thrusting  her  into  a 
cabbage-net,  "'cause  I  fought  best." 

"But  you  must  get  right  down,  this 
minute." 

"No,"  said  Flyaway,  shaking  her  head 
dress  of  white  fringe  with  great  solemnity; 
"I  isn't  goin'  to  get  down." 

"Ah,  but  you  must." 

Flyaway  opened  and  shut  her  eyes  slow 
ly,  in  token  of  deep  displeasure.  "  I  don't 
never  'low  little  girls  to  scold  to  me,"  said 
she.  "  Youd  better  call  grandma;  'haps 
she  can  make  me  get  down." 


94  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

But  it  was  not  Jennie's  purpose  to  wait 
for  that;  she  seized  the  little  one  roughly 
by  the  arms,  pulled  her  from  the  table, 
and  hurried  her  into  the  parlor. 

Flyaway  was  indignant.  "Does  you  — 
—  feel  happy?"  said  she,  with  a  reproachful 
glance  at  Jennie. 

"There,  look  out  of  the  window,  Fly 
away,  darling,  and  watch  to  see  if  Horace 
isn't  coming  in  from  the  garden." 

"  Can't  Hollis  come,  'thout  me  watching 
him?"  returned  Flyaway,  winking  slowly 
again,  for  her  sweet  little  soul  was  stirred 
with  wrath.  The  memory  of  the  "skipt" 
had  indeed  been  driven  away,  and  she  coulcl 
only  think,  — 

"  Isn't  Jennie  so  easy  fretted !  I  wasn't 
cloin'  nuffin' ;  and  then  she  jumped  me  right 
down.  Unpolite  gell !  that's  one  thing." 

And    Jennie    was   thinking,    "She    nev- 


THE   RAG-BAG.  95 

er'll  remember  the  money  now,  or,  if  she 
does,  I  don't  believe  Mrs.  Parlin  will  pay 
any  attention  to  what  she  says."  Jennie 
was  still  very  much  excited,  and  wondered 
why  she  trembled  so. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  keep  it  unless  it's  per 
fectly  proper,"  thought  she ;  "  I  guess  I 
know  the  eighth  commandment  fast  enough. 
I  shan't  keep  it  unless  Dotty  thinks  best. 
I'll  tell  her,  and  see  what  she  says." 

Jennie  had  often  pilfered  little  things 
from  her  mother's  cupboard,  such  as  cake 
and  raisins ;  but  a  piece  of  money  of  the 
most  trifling  value  she  had  never  thought 
of  taking  before. 

Leaving  Flyaway  busy  with  block  houses, 
she  ran  to  the  nursery  door,  and  motioned 
with  her  finger  for  Dotty  to  come  out. 

"What  is  it?"  said  Dotty,  when  they 
were  both  shut  into  the  china  closet  ; 


96  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

ft  don't     you     want    my    sister     Prudy    to 
know?" 

Jennie  replied,  in  a  great  flutter,  "No, 
no,  no.  You  musn't  tell  a  single  soul, 
Dotty  Dimple,  as  long  as  you  live,  and 
I'll  give  you  half.'' 

"Half  what?" 

Jennie  produced  the  money  from  her 
bosom,  feeling,  I  am  glad  to  say,  very 
guilty.  "Out  o'  those  saddle-bag  pockets 
out  there,"  added  she,  breathlessly ;  "true's 
the  world." 

"Why,  Jennie  Vance!" 

"One  had  a  raisin  in  and  a  button,  and 
nobody  but  me  would  have  thought  of  look 
ing.  You  wouldn't  —  now  would  you  ?  My 
father  says  I've  got  such  sharp  eyes  ! " 

"  H'm  !  "  said  Dotty,  who  considered  her 
own  eyes  as  bright  as  any  diamonds  ;  "  you 
took  the  saddle-bag  right  out  of  my  hand. 


THE   RAG-BAG.  97 

How  do  you  know  I  shouldn't  have  peeked 
in?" 

Jennie  did  not  reply,  but  smoothed  out 
the  wrinkled  notes  with  many  a  loving  pat. 

*  What  did  grandma  say?"  asked  Dotty; 
"  wasn't  she  pleased  ?  " 

'Your  grandmother  doesn't  know  any 
thing  about  it,  Dotty  Dimple ;  what  busi 
ness  is  it  to  her  ?  " 

Jennie's  tone  was  defiant.  She  assumed 
a  courage  she  was  far  from  feeling. 

Dotty  was  speechless  with  surprise,  but 
her  eyes  grew  as  round  as  soap-bubbles. 

"  The  pockets  don't  belong  to  her,  Dotty, 
and  never  did.  They  never  came  out  of 
any  of  her  dresses  —  now  did  they  ?  " 

Dotty's  eyes  swelled  like  a  couple  of  bub 
bles  ready  to  burst. 

"  Jennie  Vance,  I  didn't  know  you's  a 
thief." 

7 


98  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"You  stop  talking  so,  Dotty.  She  was 
going  to  sweep  everything  into  the  rag 
bag  —  now  wasn't  she  ?  And  this  money 
would  have  gone  in  too,  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  my  sharp  eyes  —  now  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"But  it  isn't  yours,  Jennie  Vance  —  be 
cause  it  don't  belong  to  you." 

"  Now,  Dotty  —  " 

"  You  go  right  off,  Jennie  Vance,  and 
carry  it  to  my  grandma  this  minute." 

The  tone  of  command  irritated  Jennie. 
She  had  not  felt  at  all  decided  about  keep 
ing  the  money,  but  opposition  gave  her 
courage.  Her  temper  and  Dotty 's  were 
always  meeting  and  striking  fire. 

"It  isn't  your  grandma's  pockets,  Miss 
Parlin.  If  it  was  the  last  word  I  was  to 
speak,  it  isn't  your  grandmother's  pockets  ! " 

"  Jane  Sidney  Vance  !  " 

"  You    needn't    call    me    by   my    middle 


THE    RAG-BAG.  99 

name,  and  stare  so  at  me.  Dotty  Dimple. 
I  was  going  to  give  you  half !  " 

'  What  do  I  want  of  half,  when  it  isn't 
yonrs  to  give  ?  "  said  Dotty,  gazing  regret 
fully  at  the  money,  nevertheless.  Three 
dollars !  Why,  it  was  a  small  fortune  ! 
If  it  only  did  really  belong  to  Jenny! 

'Your  grandmother  said  everything  we 
liked  the  looks  of,  Dotty.  Don't  you  like 
the  looks  of  this?" 

"  But  you   know,    Jennie  — " 

"  O,  you  needn't  preach  to  me.  You 
wasn't  the  one  that  found  it.  If  I'd  truly 
been  a  thief,  or  if  I  hadn't  been  a  thief, 
it  would  have  been  right  for  me  to  keep 
it,  and  perfectly  proper,  and  not  said  a 
word  to  you,  either;  so  there." 

"  Jennie  Vance,  I'm  going  right  out  of 
this  closet,  and  tell  my  grandma  what  you've 
said." 


100          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  Wait,  Dotty  Dimple  ;  let  me  get  through 
talking.  I  meant  to  buy  things  for  your 
grandmother  with  it.  O,  yes,  I  did  —  a 
silk  dress,  and  cap,  and  shoes." 

Dotty  twirled  her  hair,  and  looked 
thoughtful. 

*  Of  course  I  did.  Wouldn't  it  surprise 
her,  when  she  wasn't  expecting  it?  And 
Flyaway,  too,  —  something  for  her.  We 
wouldn't  keep  anything  for  ourselves,  only 
just  enough  to  buy  clothes  and  such  things 
as  we  really  need." 

Before  Dotty  had  time  to  reply  there 
was  a  loud  scream  from  the  parlor. 

"Fly  is  killed— she  is  killed!"  cried 
Dotty;  but  Jennie  had  presence  of  mind 
enough  to  tuck  the  bills  into  the  neck  of 
her  dress. 

"Don't  you  tell  anybody  a  word   about 


THE   RAG-BA&.';  101 


it,   Dotty.      If  you   tell"-  111  w<fo 
awful  to  you.      Do  you  hear?" 

Dotty  heard,  but  did  not  answer.  The 
fate  of  her  cousin  Flyaway  seemed  more 
important  to  her  just  then  than  all  the 
bank-bills  in  the  world. 


102          p£rt*$Y» DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY, 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   WICKED   GIRL. 

FLYAWAY  had  only  been  climbing  the 
outside  of  the  staircase,  and  would  have 
done  very  well,  if  some  one  had  not  rung 
the  door-bell,  and  startled  her  so  that  she 
fell  from  the  very  top  stair  to  the  floor. 
It  was  feared,  at  first,  that  several  bones 
were  broken  and  her  intellect  injured  for 
life ;  but  after  crying  fifteen  minutes,  she 
seemed  to  feel  nearly  as  well  as  before. 

"  If  ever  a  child  was  made  of  thistle-down 
it  is  Flyaway  Clifford,"  said  aunt  Louise. 

Still  it  was  not  thought  best  for  her  to 
fatigue  herself  that  day  by  selling  rags, 


THE    WICKED   GIRL.  103 

and  the  wheelbarrow  enterprise  was  put  off 
until  the  next  morning. 

The  person  who  rang  the  door-bell  was 
Mrs.  Vance's  girl  Susan,  who  called  for 
Jennie  to  go  home  and  try  on  a  frock. 
Jennie  did  not  return,  and  Dotty  had  a 
sense  of  uneasiness  all  day.  The  guilty 
secret  of  the  three  dollars  weighed  upon 
her  mind.  Should  she,  or  should  she  not, 
tell  her  grandmother? 

"I"  don't  know  but  Jennie  would  do 
something  to  my  things  if  I  told,"  thought 
she ;  "  but  then  I  never  promised  a  word. 
Here  it  is  four  o'clock.  Who  knows  but 
she's  gone  and  spent  that  money,  and  my 
grandmother  never'll  know  what's  'come  of 
it?" 

This  possibility  was  very  alarming.  "  Jen 
nie  Vance  doesn't  seem  to  have  any  little 
whisper  inside  of  her  heart,  that  ticks  like 


104          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

a  watch ;  but  /have.  My  conscience  pricks  ; 
so  I  know  that  perhaps  it's  my  duty  to  go 
and  tell." 

Dotty  drew  herself  up  virtuously  and 
looked  in  the  glass.  There  she  seemed  to 
see  an  angelic  little  girl,  whose  only  wish 
was  to  do  just  right  —  a  little  girl  as  much 
purer  than  Jennie  Vance,  as  a  lily  is  purer 
than  a  very  ugly  toadstool. 

Well,  Miss  Dotty,  there  is  some  truth 
in  the  picture.  Jennie  is  not  a  good  child ; 
but  neither  are  you  an  angel.  There  is 
more  wickedness  in  your  proud  little  heart 
than  you  will  ever  begin  to  find  out.  And 
wait  a  minute.  Who  teaches  you  all  you 
know  of  right  and  wrong?  Is  it  your 
mother?  Suppose  she  had  died,  as  did 
Jennie's  mamma,  when  you  were  a  toddling 
baby? 

There,  that's  all :  you  do  not  hear  a  word 


THE   WICKED   GIRL.  105 

I  say ;  and  if  you  did,  you  would  not  heed, 
O,  self-righteous  Dotty  Dimple  ! 

Dotty  ran  up  stairs  to  find  her  grand 
mother. 

"  Grandma,"  whispered  she,  though  there 
was  no  one  else  in  the  room ;  "  something 
dreadful  has  happened.  You've  lost  three 
dollars  ! " 

"What,  dear?" 

"O,  you  needn't  look  in  your  pocket. 
Jennie  found  'em  in  the  rag-bag,  and  tried 
to  make  me  take  half;  but  of  course  I 
never ;  and  now  she's  run  off  with  'em !  " 

"  Found  three  dollars  in  the  rag-bag  ? 
I  guess  not." 

'Yes,  grandma;  for  I  saw  her  just  as 
she  was  going  to  find  em',  in  a  pair  of 
pockets.  I  should  have  seen  'em  myself 
if  she  hadn't  looked  first." 

"Indeed!      Is  this   really   so?     But   she 


106          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


ought  to  have  come  and  given  them  to 
me." 

"That  was  just  what  I  told  her,  over 
and  over,  grandma,  and  over  again.  But 
she's  a  dreadful  naughty  girl,  Jennie  Vance 
is.  If  there's  anything  bad  she  can  do, 
she  goes  right  off  and  does  it." 

"Hush,  my  child." 

"Yes'm,  I  won't  say  any  more,  only  I 
don't  think  my  mother  would  like  to  have 
me  play  with  little  girls  that  take  money 
out  of  rag-bags." 

Dotty  drew  herself  up  again  in  a  very 
stately  way. 

"Jennie  said  she  was  going  to  buy  you 
a  silk  dress  and  so  forth ;  but  she  does 
truly  lie  so,  'one  to  another,'  that  you  can't 
believe  her  for  certain,  not  half  she  says." 

Grandma  looked  over  her  spectacles  and 
through  the  window,  as  if  trying  to  see 
what  ought  to  be  done. 


THE    WICKED   GIRL.  107 

'  You  did  right  to  tell  me  this,  my 
child,"  said  she ;  "  but  I  wish  you  to  say 
nothing  about  it  to  any  one  else  :  will  you 
remember  ?  " 

"  Yes  ?m,"  replied  Dotty,  trying  to  read 
her  grandmother's  face,  and  feeling  a  little 
alarmed  by  its  solemnity.  "What  you 
going  to  do,  grandma  ?  Not  put  Jennie 
in  the  lockup  —  are  you  ?  'Cause  if  you 
do  —  O,  don't  you  !  She  said  'twas  her 
sharp  eyes,  and  she  didn't  mean  to  steal, 
and  't wasn't  your  pockets,  and  she  prom 
ised  she'd  give  me  half — yes,  she  truly 
did,  grandma." 

w  Go,  dear,  and  bring  me  my  bonnet 
from  the  band-box  in  my  bed-room  closet." 

Then  Mrs.  Parlin  folded  the  sheet  she 
was  making,  put  on  her  best  shawl  and 
bonnet,  and  kid  gloves,  and  taking  her 
sun  umbrella,  set  out  for  a  walk.  There 


108          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

was  a  look  in  her  face  which  made  her 
little  granddaughter  think  it  would  not  be 
proper  to  ask  any  questions. 

Mrs.    Parlin    met   Jennie   Vance    coining 

o 

in  at  the  gate. 

"0,  dear,"  thought  Dotty,  "I  don't  want 
to  see  her.  Grandma  says  I've  done  right, 
but  Jennie'll  call  me  a  tell-tale.  Ill  go 
out  in  the  barn  and  hide." 

The  guilty  secret  had  lain  heavy  at  Jen 
nie's  heart  all  day.  As  soon  as  her  dress 
maker  could  spare  her,  and  a  troublesome 
little  cousin  had  left,  she  asked  permission 
to  go  to  Mrs.  Parlin's. 

"Dotty  thinks  I  meant  to  keep  it,"  she 
thought.  "I  never  did  see  such  a  girl. 
You  can't  say  the  least  little  thing  but 
she  takes  it  sober  earnest,  and  says  she'll 
tell  her  grandmother." 

Jennie  stole  round  by  the  back  door, 
and  timidly  asked  for  Miss  Dimple. 


THE    WICKED    GIRL.  109 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  where  she  is," 
answered  Buthie,  with  a  pleasant  smile; 
"nor  Flyaway  either.  I  have  been  living 
in  peace  for  half  an  hour." 

Kuthie  made  you  think  of  lemon  candy; 
she  was  sweet  and  tart  too. 

While  Jennie,  with  the  kind  assistance 
of  Prudy,  was  hunting  for  Dotty,  Mrs. 
Parlin  was  in  Judge  Vance's  parlor,  talking 
with  Jennie's  step-mother.  Mrs.  Vance 
was  shocked  to  hear  of  her  daughter's  con 
duct,  for  she  loved  her  and  wished  her  to 
do  right. 

"My  poor  Jennie,"  said  she ;"  from  her 
little  babyhood  until  she  was  six  years  old, 
there  was  no  one  to  take  care  of  her  but 
a  hired  nurse,  who  neglected  her  sadly." 

"  I  know  just  what  sort  of  training  Jen 
nie  has  had  from  Serena  Pond,"  said  Mrs. 
Parlin ;  "  it  was  most  unfortunate.  But 


110          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

you  are  so  faithful  with  her,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Vance,  that  I  do  believe  she  will  outgrow 
all  those  early  influences." 

"I  keep  hoping  so,"  said  Mrs.  Vance, 
repressing  a  sigh;  "I  take  it  very  kindly 
of  you,  Mrs.  Parlin,  that  you  should  come 
to  me  with  this  affair.  I  shall  not  allow 
Jennie  to  go  to  your  house  very  often. 
You  do  not  like  to  wound  my  feelings, 
but  I  am  sure  you  cannot  wish  to  have 
your  little  granddaughter  very  intimate 
with  a  child  who  is  sly  and  untruthful." 

"My  dear  lady,"  said  grandma  Parlin, 
taking  Mrs.  Vance's  hand,  and  pressing  it 
warmly;  "since  we  are  talking  so  freely 
together,  and  I  know  you  are  too  generous 
to  be  offended,  I  will  confess  to  you  that 
if  Jennie  persists  in  concealing  this  money, 
I  would  prefer  not  to  have  Dotty  play  with 
her  very  much ;  at  least  while  her  mother 


THE    WICKED   GIRL,  111 

Is  not  here  to  have  the  care  of  her."  It 
was  hard  for  Mrs.  Parlin  to  say  this,  and 
she  added  presently,  — 

"Please  let  Jennie  spend  the  night  at 
our  house.  She  may  wish  to  talk  with  me  ; 
we  will  give  her  the  opportunity." 

Mrs.  Vance  gladly  consented.  She  had 
observed  that  Jennie  seemed  unhappy,  and 
was  very  anxious  to  see  Dotty  again.  She 
hoped  she  had  gone  to  return  the  money 
of  her  own  free  will. 

When  Mrs.  Parlin  opened  the  nursery 
door  at  home,  she  found  Jennie  building 
block  houses,  to  Flyaway's  great  delight, 
while  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  sat 
Dotty  Dimple,  resolutely  sewing  patch 
work. 

"O,  grandma,"  spoke  up  Flyaway,  "Jen 
nie  came  to  see  me ;  she  didn't  come  to 
see  Dotty,  'cause  Dotty  don't  want  to  talk. 


112          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

There,  now,  Jennie,  make  a  rat  to  put  in 
the  cupboard.  R  goes  first  to  rat." 

Innocent  little  Flyaway !  She  had  long 
ago  forgotten  her  pique  against  Jennie  for 
being  "so  easy  fretted,"  and  jumping  her 
down  from  the  table. 

Wretched  little  Jennie  !  The  new  blue 
and  white  frock,  just  finished  by  her  dress 
maker,  covered  a  heart  filled  with  mortifi 
cation.  Dotty  Dimple  would  not  talk  to 
her.  It  seemed  as  if  Dotty  had  climbed 
to  the  top  of  a  high  mountain,  and  was 
looking  down,  down  upon  her. 

Dotty  did  feel  very  exalted  to-day;  but 
there  was  another  reason  why  she  would 
not  talk  with  Jennie :  she  might  have  to 
confess  that  grandma  knew  about  the 
money ;  and  then  what  a  scene  there  would 
be !  So  Dotty  set  her  lips  together,  and 
sewed  as  if  she  was  afraid  somebody  would 


THE   WICKED   GIRL.  113 

freeze  to  death  before  she  could  finish  her 
patchwork  quilt. 

Mrs.  Clifford,  who  did  not  understand 
the  cause  of  Dotty's  lofty  mood,  took  pity 
on  Jennie,. and  tried  to  amuse  her.  After 
a  while,  Dotty  came  softly  along,  and  sat 
down  close  to  her  aunt  Maria,  ready  to 
listen  to  the  story  of  the  tf  Pappoose," 
though  she  had  heard  it  fifty  times  before. 

She  did  not  see  Jennie  alone  for  one 
moment.  Grandma  Parlin  did.  "Jennie," 
said  she,  taking  her  into  the  parlor  to  show 
her  a  new  shell,  "are  you  going  with  our 
little  girls,  to-morrow,  to  sell  rags?" 

"I  don't  know,  ma'am,  I'm  sure,"  replied 
Jennie,  looking  hard  at  the  sofa.  She 
longed  to  make  an  open  confession,  and 
get  rid  of  the  troublesome  money,  but  had 
not  the  courage  to  do  it  without  some  help 
from  Dotty. 

8 


114          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"O,  dear,"  thought  she,  "I  feel  just  as 
wicked  with  that  money  in  my  bosom ! 
Seems  as  if  she  could  hear  it  crumple.  If 
Dotty  would  only  let  me  talk  to  her  first !  " 

But  Dotty  continued  as  unapproachable 
as  the  Pope  of  Eome.  Eight  o'clock  came, 
and  the  two  unhappy  little  girls  went 
slowly  up  stairs  to  bed.  Dotty,  in  her 
lofty  pride,  tried  to  make  her  little  friend 
feel  herself  a  sinner;  while  Jennie,  ready 
to  hide  herself  in  the  potato-bin  for 
shame,  was,  at  the  same  time,  very  angry 
with  the  self-satisfied  Miss  Dimple.  She 
was  awed  by  her  superior  goodness,  but 
did  not  love  her  any  the  better  for  it. 
Why  should  she?  Dotty' s  goodness  lacked 

"  Humility,  that  low,  sweet  root, 
2?rom  which  all  heavenly  virtues  shoot." 

"Here,  Miss  Parlin,"  said  Jennie,  angri- 


THE   WICKED   GIRL.  115 

ly,  as  she  took  off  her  dress ;  "  here  it  is, 
right  in  my  neck.  I  should  have  gone  and 
given  it  to  your  grandmother,  ever  so  long 
ago,  if  you  hadn't  acted  so  !  " 

Dotty  pulled   off  her   stocjdngs. 

"I  'spose  you  thought  I  was  going  to 
keep  it.  Here,  take  your  old  money!" 

"You  did  mean  to  keep  it,  Jane  Sidney 
Vance,"  retorted  Dotty,  as  fierce  as  a  this 
tle  ;  and  finished  undressing  at  the  top  of 
her  speed. 

The  money  lay  on  the  floor,  and  neither 
of  the  proud  girls  would  pick  it  up.  Jennie, 
who  always  prayed  at  her  mother's  knee, 
forgot  her  prayer  to-night,  and  climbed 
into  bed  without  it.  But  Dotty,  feeling 
more  than  ever  how  much  better  she  was 
than  her  little  friend,  knelt  beside  a  chair, 
and  prayed  in  a  loud  voice.  First,  she 
repeated  the  "Lord's  Prayer,"  then  "Gen- 


116          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

tie  Jesus,  meek  and  mild,"  and  "Now  I 
lay  me  down  to  sleep."  She  was  not  talk 
ing  to  her  heavenly  Father,  but  to  Jennie, 
and  ended  her  petitions  thus :  — 

"O  God,  forgive  me  if  I  have  done 
anything  naughty  to-day ;  and  please  for 
give  Jennie  Vance ,  the  wickedest  girl  in 
this  town" 

Then    the  little  Pharisee  got  into  bed. 


WHEELBARRO  WING.  117 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


WHEELS  ARROWING." 


"  THE  wickedest  girl  in  this  town  !  "  Jen 
nie's  eyes  flashed  in  the  dark  like  a  couple 
of  fireflies.  At  first  she  was  too  angry 
to  speak;  and  when  words  did  come,  they 
were  too  weak.  She  wanted  words  that 
were  so  strong,  and  bitter,  and  fierce,  that 
they  would  make  Dotty  quail.  But  all 
she  could  say  was, — 

"  O,  dreadful  good  you  are,  Miss  Parlin ! 
Good 's  the  minister !  Ah !  guess  I'll  get 
out  and  sleep  on  the  floor !  " 

Dotty  made  no  reply,  but  rolled  over 
to  the  front  of  the  bed,  and  Jennie  pushed 


118          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

herself  to  the  back  of  it.  There  the  little 
creatures  lay  in  silence,  each  on  an  edge 
of  the  bedstead,  and  a  whole  mattress 
between.  Sleep  did  not  come  at  once. 

c?  She's  left  that  money  on  the  floor," 
thought  Dotty ;  "  what  if  a  mouse  should 
creep  down  the  chimney,  and  gnaw  it  all 
up  ?  But  she  must  take  care  of  it  herself. 
/  shan't !  " 

And  Jennie  thought,  wrathfully,  "  Dotty 
says  such  long  prayers  she  can't  stop  to 
pick  up  that  scrip  !  If  she  expects  me  to 
get  out  of  bed,  she's  made  a  mistake ;  I 
won't  touch  her  old  money." 

About  nine  o'clock  grandma  Parlin  came 
quietly  into  the  room  with  a  lamp.  A 
smile  crept  round  the  corners  of  her  mouth, 
as  she  saw  the  little  girls  sleeping  so 
widely  apart,  their  faces  turned  away  from 
each  other. 


WHEELB  ARROWING .  119 

"How  is  this?"  said  she,  as  the  two 
bills  caught  her  eye.  "Of  all  the  foolish 
children  !  Dropping  money  about  the  room 
like  waste  paper  !  " 

The  light  awoke  Jennie,  who  had  only 
just  fallen  asleep.  "Now  is  the  time," 
said  she  to  herself;  and  without  waiting 
for  a  second  thought,  which  would  have 
been  a  worse  one,  she  sprang  out  of  bed, 
and  caught  Mrs.  Parlin  by  the  skirts. 

"  That  money  is  yours,  Mrs.  Parlin," 
said  she,  bravely.  "  Yours  ;  I  found  it 
in  the  rag-bag.  Something  naughty  came 
into  me  this  morning,  and  made  me  want  to 
keep  it ;  but  I'm  ever  so  sorry,  and  never  '11 
do  it  again.  Will  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

Then  grandma  Parlin  seated  herself  in 
a  rocking-chair,  took  Jennie  right  into  her 
lap,  and  talked  to  her  a  long  while  in  the 
sweetest  way.  Jennie  curled  her  head  into 


120          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

the   good  woman's   neck,   and    sobbed   out 
all  her  wretchedness. 

"  She  knew  she  was  real  bad,  and  people 
didn't  like  to  have  her  play  with  their 
little  girls,  and  Dotty  Dimple  thought  she 
was  awful;  but  was  she  the  wickedest  girl 
in  this  town?" 

"No;  O,  no!" 

"Wasn't  Dotty  some  bad,  too?" 

"Yes,   Dotty  often  did  wrong." 

Then  Jenny  wept  afresh. 

"  She  knew  she  was  worse  than  Dotty, 
though.  She  wished,  —  O,  dear,  as  true 
as  she  lived, — she  wished  she  was  dead 
and  buried,  and  drowned  in  the  Eed  Sea, 
and  the  grass  over  her  grave,  and  shut 
up  in  jail,  and  everything  else." 

Then  Mrs.  Parlin  soothed  her  with  kind 
words,  but  told  the  truth  with  every  one. 

"No  'm,"  Jennie  said;    "it  wasn't  right 


WHEELS  ARROWING .  121 

to  take  fruit-cake  without  leave,  or  tell 
wrong  stories  either  ;  she  wouldn't  any 
more.  Yes  'm,  she  would  try  to  be  good 
—  she  never  had  tried  much.  —  Yes  'm, 
she  would  ask  God  to  help  her.  Should 
you  suppose  He  would  do  it? 

"Yes  'm,  she  would  ask  Him  not  to 
let  her  have  much  temptation.  She  did 
believe  she  would  rather  be  a  good  girl  — 
a  real  good  girl,  like  Prudy,  not  like  Dot 
ty! —  than  to  have  a  velvet  dress  with 
spangles  all  over  it." 

All  this  while  Dotty  did  not  waken.  In 
the  morning  she  was  surprised  to  see  her 
little  bedfellow  looking  so  cheerful. 

"I've  told  your  grandmother  all  about 
it,"  said  Jennie  with  a  smile.  "I  knew  I 
did  wrong,  but  I  don't  believe  I  should 
have  meant  to  if  you  hadn't  acted  so  your 
own  self — now  that's  a  fact." 


122  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"You  haven't  seen  my  grandmother, " 
returned  Dotty,  not  noticing  the  last  clause 
of  her  friend's  remark.  T  You  dreamed  it." 

"No,  she  came  in  here  and  forgave  me. 
She's  the  best  woman  in  this  world.  What 
do  you  think  she  said  about  you,  Dotty 
Dimple?  She  said  there  were  other  little 
girls  full  as  good  as  you  are.  There  !  " 

"  O ! " 

"Said  you  'often  did  wrong,'  that's  just 
what,"  added  Jennie,  correcting  herself, 
and  making  sure  of  the  "white  truth." 

Step  by  step  Dotty  came  down  from  the 
mountain-top,  and,  before  breakfast  was 
ready,  had  led  her  visitor  through  the 
morning  dew  to  the  playhouse  under  the 
trees,  chatting  all  the  way  as  if  nothing 
had  happened. 

It  proved  that  the  money  belonged  to 
Abner.  He  had  missed  it  several  weeks 


WHEELB  ARROWING.  123 

before,  and  ever  since  that  had  been  sus 
pecting  old  Daniel  McQuilken,  a  day  la 
borer,  of  stealing  it. 

"  I'm  ashamed  of  it  now,"  said  Abner  to 
Ruth,  "though  I  didn't  tell  anybody  but 
you.  I  wish  you'd  mix  a  pitcher  of  sweet- 
"ened  water,  and  let  me  take  it  out  to  the 
field  to  old  Daniel.  I  feel  as  if  I  wanted 
to  make  it  up  to  him  some  way." 

Ruth  laughed;  and  when  Abner  came 
into  the  house  at  ten  o'clock,  she  had  a 
pitcher  of  molasses  and  water  ready  for 
him,  also  a  plate  of  cherry  turnovers. 
Flyaway  insisted  upon  toddling  over  the 
ground  with  one  of  the  turnovers  in  her 
apron. 

"Man,"  said  she,  when  they  reached  the 
field,  and  she  saw  the  Irishman  with  his 
funny  red  and  white  hair,  «  what's  your 
name,  man?" 


124          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

He  wiped  his  face  with  his  checked 
shirt-sleeve,  and  took  a  turnover  from  her 
hand,  bowing  very  low  as  he  did  so. 

"Thank  ee,  my  little  lady;  sense  you're 
plazed  to  ask  me, — my  name's  Dannul." 

"O,  are  you?"  said  Flyaway,  looking 
up  in  surprise  at  the  large  and  oddly- 
dressed  stranger.  "Are  you  Daniel?  My 
mamma's  just  been  reading  about  you. 
You  was  in  the  lions'  den  —  wasn't  you, 
Daniel?" 

Mr.  McQuilken  smiled  at  bareheaded, 
flossy-haired  little  Katie,  and  replied,  with 
a  wink  at  Abner, — 

"Fath,  little  lady,  and  I  suppose  I'm 
that  same  Dannul;  but  'twas  so  long  ago 
I've  clane  forgot  aboot  it  entirely." 

"O,  did  you?  Well,  you  was  in  the 
lions'  den,  Daniel,  but  they  didn't  bite 
you,  you  know,  'cause  you  prayed  so  long 


WHEELS  ARROWING.  125 

and  so  loud,  with  your  winners  up ;  and 
then  God  wouldn't  let  'em  bite." 

Old  Daniel  laid  both  his  huge  hands 
on  Katie's  head. 

"  Swate  little  chirrub,"  said  he,  "  don't 
she  look  saintish?" 

Katie  moved  away;  she  did  not  like  to 
have  her  hair  pulled,  and  Daniel  was  un 
consciously  drawing  it  through  the  big 
cracks  in  his  fingers,  as  if  he  was  waxing 
silk. 

"I  guess   I'll  go  home   now,"   said  she, 

with  a  timid   glance  at  the  man  whom  the 

% 

lions    did    not    bite ;    "  they'll    be    spectin' 


me." 


Abner  and  Daniel  both  watched  the  tiny 
figure  across  the  fields  till  Ruth  came  out 
to  meet  it,  and  it  fluttered  into  the  east 
door  of  the  house. 

"There,   she's   safe,"    said   Abner;   "she 


126          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

needs   as   much   looking   after   as   a  young 
turkey." 

"  She  runs  like  a  little  sperrit,  bliss  her 
swate  eyes,"  said  Daniel.  "I  had  one  as 
pooty  as  her,  but  she's  at  Mary's  fate, 
Hivven  rist  her  sowl !  " 

The  moment  Flyaway  reached  the  house, 
she  rushed  into  the  parlor  to  tell  her 
mother  the  news. 

:?The  man  you  readed  about  in  the 
book,  mamma,  he's  out  there !  Daniel, 
that  the  lions  didn't  bite,  mamma,  'cause 
he  prayed  so  long  and  so  loud  with  his 
winners  up  ;  he's  out  there  —  got  a  hat  on." 

"0,  no,  my  child;  it  is  thousands  of 
years  since  Daniel  was  in  the  lions'  den; 
he  died  long  and  long  ago." 

"But  he  said  be  did,  mamma;  he  told 
me  so.  I  fought  he  was  dead,  mamma, 
but  he  said  he  wasn't." 


WHEELS  ARROWING .  127 

Mrs.  Clifford  shook  her  head.  f?I  dare 
say  his  name  is  Daniel,  but  he  was  never 
in  a  lion's  den." 

Flyaway  opened  and  closed  her  eyes  in 
the  slowest  and  most  impressive  manner. 
"Mamma,"  said  she,  solemnly,  "does  — 
folks  _ tell  — lies?" 

It  was  an  entirely  new  idea  to  the  in 
nocent  child :  it  stamped  itself  upon  her 
mind  like  a  motto  on  warm  sealing-wax, 
"  Folks  —  does  —  tell  -  -  lies." 

Mrs.  Clifford  was  sorry  to  see  the  look 
of  distrust  on  the  young  face. 

"Listen  to  me,  little  Flyaway.  I  think 
the  man  was  in  sport ;  he  was  only  playing 
with  you,  as  Horace  does  sometimes,  when 
he  calls  himself  your  horse." 

Flyaway  said  no  more,  but  she  pressed 
her  eyelids  together  again,  and  felt  that 
she  had  been  trifled  with.  Half  an  hour 


128          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

afterwards  Prudy  heard  her  repeating, 
slowly,  to  herself,  "  Folks  —  does  —  tell  — 
lies." 

'  Why,  here  she  is,"  called  Dotty  from 
the  piazza ;  "  come,  Fly  ;  we're  going  wheel- 
barrowing." 

"Wait  a  minute,  cousin  Dotty,"  said 
Mrs.  Clifford;  "Flyaway  must  put  on  a 
clean  frock;  she  is  not  coming  home  with 
you,  but  you  are  to  leave  her  at  aunt 
Martha's.  I  shall  meet  her  there  at  din 
ner  time." 

"O,  mamma,  may  I?  I  love  you  a  hun 
dred  rooms  full.  Let  me  go  bring  my 
buttoner  bootner  quick's  a  minute." 

Flyaway  was  not  long  in  getting  ready. 
She  was  never  long  about  anything. 

'  You  said  we  might  have  all  the  money, 
we  three  —  didn't  you,  grandma?"  asked 
Dotty  again,  at  the  last  moment,  thinking 


WHEELBARROWING.  129 

how  glad  she  was  Jennie  had  gone  home, 
and  would  not  claim  a  share. 

:?  Yes,"  replied  patient  grandma  for  the 
fifth  time ;  "  you  may  do  anything  you  like 
with  it,  except  to  buy  colored  candy." 

As  they  were  trundling  the  wheelbarrow 

out  of  the  yard,  Horace  came  up  from  the 

" 

garden. 

"Prudy,"  said  he,  with  rather  a  shame 
faced  glance  at  his  favorite  cousin,  "you 
girls  will  cut  a  pretty  figure,  parading 
through  the  streets  like  a  gang  of  pedlers. 
Come,  let  me  be  the  driver." 

"O,  we  thought  you  couldn't  leave  your 
flower-beds,  sir,"  replied  Prudy,  sweeping 
a  courtesy. 

'  Well,  the  weeds  are  pretty  tough, 
ma'am ;  roots  'way  down  in  China,  and  the 
Emperor  objects  to  parting  with  'em  ; 
but  —  " 

9 


130  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"Poh!  we  don't  need  any  boys,"  cried 
the  self-sustained  Miss  Dimple ;  "  if  your 
hands  are  too  soft,  Prudy,  you  mustn't 
push.  Wait  and  see  what  Dotty  Dimple 
can  do." 

"  O,  then,  if  you  spurn  me  and  my  offer, 
good  by.  I  suppose  my  little  Topknot 
goes  for  surplusage"  said  Horace,  who 
liked  now  and  then  to  puzzle  Dotty  with 
a  new  word.  He  meant  that  Flyaway  was 
of  no  use,  but  rather  in  the  way. 

"No,  she  needn't  do  any  such  thing," 
returned  Dotty.  "Jump  in,  Fly,  and  sit 
on  the  bag."  And  off  moved  the  gay  little 
party,  "  the  middle-aged  sister "  laughing 
so  she  could  hardly  push,  Flyaway  dancing 
up  and  clown  on  the  rag-bag,  like  a  hum 
ming-bird  balancing  itself  on  a  twig ;  Grace 
and  Susy  looking  down  from  the  "  green 
chamber  "  window,  and  saying  to  each 


WHEELBARROWING.  131 

other,  with  wounded  family 'pride,  fr  Should 
you  think  grandma  would  allow  it  ? "  Out 
in  the  street  the  young  rag-merchants  were 
greeted  by  a  cow  lowing  dismally.  Flya- 
w^ay,  in  her  rustic  carriage,  felt  as  secure 
as  the  fabled  "  kid  on  the  roof  of  a  house  ;  " 
so  she  called  out,  "Don't  cry,  old  cow;  I 
'shamed  o'  you." 

At  this  Prudy  and  Dotty  laughed  harder 
than  ever. 

'  'Sh  right  up,  old  cow,"  said  Flyaway, 

standing   on   her   "  tipsy-toes/'  and  making 

a  threatening  gesture  with  her  little  arms ; 

*  'Sh   right  up! — O,    why   don't  that   cow 

mind  in  a  minute  ?  " 

In  her  earnestness  the  little  girl  pushed 
the  bag  to  one  side,  and  Prudy  and  Dotty, 
shaking  with  laughter,  tipped  over  the 
wheelbarrow.  No  harm  was  done  except 
to  give  Flyaway  a  dust-bath  in  her  nice 


132  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

clean  frock.  Just  as  they  were  struggling 
with  the  bag,  to  get  it  in  again,  they  were 
overtaken  by  a  droll-looking  equipage.  It 
was  a  long  house  on  wheels,  and  instantly 
reminded  Dotty  of  Noah's  ark. 

"  O,  a  house  a-ridin' !  a  house  a-ridin' !  " 
exclaimed  Flyaway,  gazing  after  it  with 
the  greatest  astonishment. 

Dotty  thought  the  world  was  going  topsy 
turvy.  She  looked  at  the  trees  to  see  if 
they  stood  fast  in  the  ground.  But  Prudy 
explained  it  as  soon  as  she  could  stop 
laughing. 

ff  Only  a  photograph  saloon,"  said  she. 
"  Didn't  you  ever  see  one  before  ?  We 
don't  have  them  in  the  city  going  round 
so,  but  things  are  different  in  the  country. 
Let's  watch  and  see  where  it  stops." 

"O,  dear  me,"  said  Dotty;  "I  shouldn't 
want  to  live  in  a  house  that  couldn't  stand 


WHEELBARROWING.  133 

still!  Stove  tipping  over,  and  the  ginger 
bread  falling  out  of  the  oven!  There,  I 
declare  !  " 

The  look  of  wonder  on  Dotty's  face  was 
so  amusing  that  Prudy  was  obliged  to 
hold  on  to  her  sides. 

"  There,  look !  "  said  she  ;  "it  has  stopped 
down  by  the  corner.  Now  the  man  can 
bake  his  gingerbread  if  he  wants  to,  and 
the  stove  won't  tip  over.  Jump  in,  Flya 
way,  and  finish  your  ride." 

"No-o,"  said  Flyaway,  wavering  between 
her  fear  of  the  cow,  some  yards  ahead, 
and  her  fear  of  the  rocking,  unsteady 
wheelbarrow.  "  Guess  I  won't  get  in  no 
more,  Prudy;  it  wearies  me." 

"Wearies   you?" 

f  Yes  :  don't  you  know  what  '  wearies  ' 
means,  Prudy?  It  means  it  makes  me  a 
—  a  —  little  —  scared  !  " 


134          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

And  in  her  "  weariness  "  Flyaway  nestled 
between  her  two  cousins,  and  kept  fast 
hold  of  their  skirts  till  the  cow  was  safely 
passed  and  the  red  store  reached. 

"  Bravo  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Bradley,  the 
merchant,  as  he  came  out  and  dragged  the 
rag-bag  into  the  store ;  "  so  you've  taken 
the  business  into  your  own  hands,  my  lit 
tle  women?  Ah,  this  is  a  progressive 
age!  Walk  in  —  walk  in." 

Prudy  blushed,  Dotty  smiled,  and  Fly 
away  took  off  her  hat,  as  she  usually  did 
when  she  did  not  know  what  else  to  do. 

c  Take  some  seats,  young  ladies,"  said 
Mr.  Bradley,  placing  three  chairs  in  a  i;ow, 
and  bowing  as  if  to  the  most  distinguished 
visitors.  Two  or  three  men,  who  were 
lounging  about  the  counter,  looked  on  with 
a  smile.  Dotty  was  very  well  satisfied, 
for  she  enjoyed  attention;  but  Prudy,  who 


WHEELBARROWING.  135 

was  older,  and  had  a  more  delicate  sense 
of  propriety,  blushed  and  cast  down  her 
eyes.  She  had  thought  nothing  of  driving 
a  wheelbarrow  through  the  street,  but  now, 
for  the  first  time,  a  feeling  of  mortifica 
tion  came  over  her.  If  Mr.  Bradley  would 
only  keep  quiet ! 

"  A  fine  morning,  my  young  friends ! 
Rather  warm,  to  be  sure.  And  so  you 
have  brought  rags  to  sell  ?  Would  you 
like  the  money  for  them,  or  do  you  think 
we  can  make  a  trade  with  some  articles 
out  of  the  store  ?  " 

"  Grandma  said  we  could  have  the  money 
between  us,  we  three,"  replied  Dotty,  with 
refreshing  frankness,  w  and  buy  anything  we 
please  except  red  and  yellow  candy." 

*'  I  want  a  music,"  said  Flyaway,  in  an 
eager  whisper;  "a  music,  and  a  ollinge, 
and  a  pig." 


136         DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  Hush !  "  said  Prudy,  for  the  man  with 
a  piece  of  court-plaster  on  his  cheek  was 
certainly  laughing. 

Mr.  Bradley  took  the  bag  into  another 
room  to  weigh  it.  A  boy  was  in  there, 
drawing  molasses.  "James,"  said  Mr.  Brad 
ley,  "  run  down  cellar,  and  bring  up  some 
beer  for  these  young  ladies." 

There  was  a  smile  on  James's  face  as  he 
drove  the  plug  into  the  barrel.  Prudy 
saw  it  through  the  open  door,  and  it  went 
to  her  heart.  The  cream  beer  was  excel 
lent,  but  Prudy  did  not  relish  it.  She  and 
Dotty  had  been  whispering  together. 

"  We  will  take  two  thirds  of  the  rags  in 
money,  if  you  please,"  said  Prudy,  in  such 
a  low  tone  that  Mr.  Bradley  had  to  bend 
his  ear  to  hear. 

"Because,"  added  Dotty,  who  wished  to 
have  everything  clearly  explained,  w  because 


WHEELB  ARROWING .  137 

we  want  to  have  our  tin-types  taken,  sir. 
We  saw  a  saloon  riding  on  wheels,  and  we 
thought  we'd  go  there,  and  see  if  the  man 
wasn't  ready  to  take  pictures." 

"And  our  little  cousin  may  use  her  third, 
and  buy  something  out  of  the  store,  if  you 
please,"  said  the  blushing  Prudy. 


138  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


CHAPTEE    IX. 

TIN-TYPES. 

MR.  BRADLEY  said  he  did  not  often  allow 
any  one  behind  his  counter,  as  all  the  boys 
in  the  village  could  testify  ;  but  these 
young  ladies  were  welcome  in  any  part  of 
the  store. 

'  That  little  one  is  the  spryest  child  I 
ever  saw,"  said  the  man  with  the  court- 
plaster,  as  Flyaway  hovered  about  the  can 
dy-jars,  like  a  butterfly  over  a  flower-bed. 
"She  isn't  a  Yankee  child  — is  she?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Dotty,  quickly;  "she 
is  a  westerness" 

She  had  heard  Horace  use  the  word, 
»  and  presumed  it  was  correct. 


TIN-TYPES. 


139 


"  I  do  -wish  Dotty  would  be  more  afraid 
of  strangers,"  thought  Prudy.  "I  never 
will  take  her  anywhere  again  —  with  a 
wheelbarrow." 

Flyaway  fluttered  around  for  a  minute, 
and  then  alighted  upon  her  favorite  sweet 
meats,  "pepnits."  She  chose  for  her  por 
tion  a  large  amount  of  these,  an  harmonica, 
and  a  sugar  pig,  which  Dotty  assured  her 
was  not  "  colored."  "  Nothing  but  pink  dots, 
and  those  you  can  pick  off." 

"The  rao-s  came  to  seventy-five  cents,  and 
this  young  lady  has  now  had  her  third; 
here  is  the  remainder,"  said  Mr.  Bradley, 
smiling  as  he  gave  each  of  the  little  Par- 
lins  some  money,  and  bowed  them  out  of 
the  store. 

"I'll    put   it   in    my   porte-monnaie,   sir; 
my   sister   Prudy   didn't   bring  hers." 
"  What   makes   you  talk  so  much,  Dotty 

• 


140          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Dimple  ?  "  said  Prudy, ;  "  that  man  has  been 
making  sport  of  us  all  the  time." 

"Did  he?"  said  Dotty,  solemnly.  "I'm 
'stonished  at  grandma  Parlin  letting  us  sell 
rags  !  Wish  this  wheelbarrow  was  in  the 
Stiftic  Ocean." 

"  But  it  isn't,  little  sister,  and  the  worst 
of  it  is,  we've  got  to  take  it  to  the  pho 
tograph  saloon;  it's  so  far  home  and  back 
again." 

"  Got  to  take  the  ole  ivheelbarrel  every 
single  where  we  go,"  pouted  Flyaway,  as 
drearily  as  either  of  her  cousins. 

'You  needn't  mind  it,  though,"  said 
Dotty,  giving  the  one-wheeled  coach  a  hard 
push;  "a  little  girl  that's  going  visiting, 
and  have  succotash  for  dinner." 

"I  didn't  know  I  was.     O,  I  am  so  glad  ! 
What  is  it!" 

w  Corn  and  beans.     Aunt  Martha's  girl  is 


TIN-TYPES.  141 

the  best  cook,  —  makes  cherry  pudding. 
Dear,  dear,  dear !  Wish  I  was  in  Port 
land  ;  see  'f  I  wouldn't  go  to  Tate  Penny's, 
and  have  some  salmon  and  ice-cream ! " 

Down  the  beautiful  shaded  street  walked 
the  three  little  rag-pedlers ;  and  it  did 
seem  as  if  they  were  met  by  all  the  people 
in  town,  from  the  minister  down  to  the 
barefoot  boys  going  fishing.  At  last  they 
arrived  at  the  house  on  wheels. 

"Now  111  tell  you,  Fly,  what  we're  go 
ing  to  do,"  said  Prudy.  "Dotty  and  I 
want  to  have  our  tin-types  taken,  to  give 
to  grandma,  as  a  pleasant  surprise.  We'll 
pay  for  yours  too,  if  you'll  sit  for  it." 

"  Tin-tybe  9  Of  course,  indeed  I  will. 
Won't  I  have  nuffin  to  do  but  just  sit 
still?  But  I'd  rather  be  gentle  (generous), 
and  give  it  to  my  mamma." 

"Well,  to    your    mamma,   then.      What 


142  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

will   be   the   harm,    Dotty,    in   leaving  this 
wheelbarrow  out  here  at  the  door  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Dotty;  "I  hope 
there  won't  any  '  bugglers '  come  along, 
and  steal  it." 

"I  shall  watch  it,"  replied  Prudy,  with 
a  care-worn  look  ;  and  they  all  went  up 
the  steps  and  entered  the  little  picture- 
gallery. 

The  windows  were  closed,  and  the  odor  of 
chemicals  was  so  stifling,  that  the  children 
almost  gasped  for  breath.  The  artist  seemed 
glad  to  see  them,  made  no  remarks  about 
the  wheelbarrow,  though  he  must  have  no 
ticed  it,  and  said  he  would  be  ready  in 
a  few  minutes.  While  they  waited,  they 
walked  about  the  room,  looking  at  the 
pictures  on  the  walls. 

"  See,"  said  Dotty ;  "there  is  Abby  Grant, 
with  her  hair  frizzed.  Prudy"  (in  a  low 


TIN-TYPES.  143 

whisper) ,  "  you  don't  s'pose  he  will  carry 
us  Off — clo  you?  I  forgot  about  the  wheels, 
or  I  wouldn't  have  come !  O,  see  that 
little  boy;  hands  as  big  as  my  father's! 
Here  comes  Jennie  Vance ;  I'm  going  to 
call  her  in." 

Dotty  had  forgotten  her  contempt  for 
her  lively  friend.  Jennie  came  in,  twirling 
the  rim  of  her  hat,  and  looking  quite  grat 
ified  by  this  mark  of  friendship  in  Dotty. 

"  Going  to  have  your  picture  taken,  Dot 
ty  Dimple?  Well,  so  I  would  if  I  was  as 
pretty  as  you  are.  O,  dear"  (with  a  sly 
peep  at  the  glass),  "I  wish  I  wasn't  so 
homely." 

Now  Jennie  was  a  handsome  child,  and 
knew  it  well ;  but  Dotty  took  her  wail  in 
earnest.  ''Why,  Jennie,"  said  she,  with 
ready  sympathy,  "I  don't  think  you're  so 
very  homely ;  not  half  so  homely,  any 
way,  as  some  of  the  girls  at  Portland." 


144          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Jennie  frowned  and  bit  her  thumb.  Pru 
dy  smiled  "  behind  her  mouth,"  but  Dotty 
was  serenely  unconscious  that  she  had 
given  offence.  By  this  time  the  artist  was 
ready,  and  thought  it  best  to  try  Flyaway 
first;  for  he  had  had  enough  experience 
with  children  to  see  at  a  glance  that  this 
one  would  be  as  difficult  to  "  take "  as  a 
bird  on  the  wing.  Prudy  made  sure  the 
wheelbarrow  was  safe,  and  then  turned  to 
arrange  her  little  cousin. 

"Here,  put  your  hands  down  in  your 
lap." 

Up  went  the  little  hands  to  the  flossy 
hair.  "It  won't  stay,  Prudy,  or  nelse  you 
tie  it." 

"I  shall  brush  it,  the  very  last  minute, 
Flyaway.  All  you  must  do  is  sit  still. 
Mayn't  she  look  at  your  watch,  sir,  just 
to  keep  her  eyes  from  moving?" 


TIN-TYPES.  145 

"No  matter  what  she  looks  at,"  replied 
the  artist ;  "  but  she  must  keep  that  little 
head  of  hers  straight." 

His  tone  was  firm ;  he  hoped  to  awe 
her  into  quietness.  Flyaway  was  fright 
ened,  and  clung  to  Prudy  for  protection. 
"  Don't  the  gemplum  love  little  gee  -  urls  ?  " 
said  she,  in  a  voice  as  low  and  sad  as  a 
dying  dove's. 

Mr.  Poindexter  laughed,  and  stroked  the 
beautiful  floss  lovingly. 

"Just  turn  your  sweet  little  face  this 
way,  dear  child;  that's  all." 

"  O,  my  shole  !  Must  I  turn  my  face  to 
my  back !  "  said  Flyaway,  bewildered. 

"No,  no;  look  at  this  picture  on  the 
wall.  See  what  it  is,  so  you  can  tell  your 
mother." 

"It's  a   bridge,  and   a  man,  and  a  fish," 
said  Flyaway,  flashing  a  glance  at  it. 
*    10 


146          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  There,  smooth  your  forehead  ;  now  you 
will  do."  And  so  she  did,  for  two  seconds, 
till  she  began  to  squint,  to  see  whether  it 
was  a  fish  or  a  dog;  and  that  picture  was 
spoiled. 

Next  time  she  tried  so  very  hard  to  sit 
still  that  she  swayed  to  and  fro  like  a 
slender-stemmed  flower  when  the  wind  goes 
over  it.  The  picture  was  blurred. 

"O,  Fly,  you  must  keep  your  shoulders 
still,"  said  Prudy,  looking  as  anxious  as 
the  old  woman  in  the  shoe. 

ff  I  didn't  never*  want  to  come  here," 
said  the  child;  "when  I  sit  so  still,  Prudy , 
it  'most  gives  me  a  pain." 

"But  you  haven't  sat  still  yet,  not  a 
minute." 

"  I  could,  you  know,  Prudy,  or  nelse  I 
didn't  have  to  breeve,"  groaned  Flyaway, 
lifting  her  eyebrows. 


TIN-TYPES.  147 

"Another  one  spoiled,"  said  the  artist, 
trying  to  smile. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dotty,  who  felt  none  of  the 
care.  "  Once  it  was  her  head,  and  then  it 
was  her  shoulders ;  and  now  her  eyebrows 
are  all  of  a  quirk." 

Poor  little  Flyaway  felt  as  much  out  of 
place  as  a  grape-vine  would  feel,  if  it  had 
to  make  believe  it  was  a  pine  tree. 

"Wisht  I'd  said  'no,'  'stead  o'  'yes,'" 
murmured  she,  puckering  her  mouth  to  the 
size  of  a  very  small  button-hole. 

"This  will  never  do,"  said  the  patient 
artist,  almost  in  despair.  "Hold  your  lit 
tle  chin  up,  there's  a  lady.  Don't  put  it 
in  your  neck.  Now  !  Keady  !  " 

But  at  the  critical  moment  there  was  a 
jerk,  and  Flyaway  cried  out,  — 

"I've  got  a  sneeze;  but,  O,  dear,  I  can't 
sneeze  it." 


148          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

?  Why,  where's  that  head  of  yours,  lit 
tle  Tot?  I  declare,  I  believe  it  goes  on 
wires,  like  a  jumping-jack." 

"My  head's  wrong  side  up,"  said  Flya 
way,  mournfully;  "my  mother  said  it  was." 

Mr.  Poindexter  laughed :  it  was  impos 
sible  to  be  vexed  with  such  a  gentle  child 
as  Flyaway.  "Eeally,  my  young  friends," 
said  he,  rubbing  his  stained  fingers  through 
his  hair,  "I  believe  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
give  it  up  for  the  present.  Have  the 
child's  mother  come  with  her  to-morrow, 
and  we'll  do  better,  I  am  sure." 

With  the  likenesses  of  the  other  girls  he 
succeeded  very  well ;  and  Prudy  and  Dotty 
were  glad  to  find,  that  after  paying  for 
theirs,  they  each  had  ten  cents  left. 

"Now,  Fly,  we  will  go  to  aunt  Martha's." 

But  Fly  was  amusing  herself  by  scraping 
dirt  out  of  the  cracks  of  her  boots  with  a 
bit  of  glass. 


TIN-TYPES.  149 

"Dotty  won't  be  to  aunt  Marfie's.  I 
don't  want  to  stay  where  Dotty  isn't*" 

"But  your  mamma  will  be  there,  you 
know ;  and  I  told  you  what  they  are  going 
to  have  for  dinner." 

'Yes,  secretary"  said  Flyaway,  proud 
of  her  memory.  "  She  is  a  very  nice  cook 
er,  but  you'll  have  hard  work  to  get  me 
to  go." 

She  drawled  out  the  words  languidly,  and 
seemed  on  the  point  of  going  to  sleep. 

"O,  girls,  girls,  girls,"  cried  Prudy, 
opening  the  door  and  looking  out,  "  our 
wheelbarrow  is  gone  —  it's  gone  !  " 

"It's  bugglers ;  I  told  you  so,"  said  Dotty. 

Mr.  Poindexter  was  quite  amused  by  his 
little  sitters.  "I  saw  tfcat  you  came  in  a 
coach,"  said  he,  "and  without  any  horses." 

"  Our  grandmother  said  we  might,"  spoke 
up  Dotty,  anxious  to  divert  all  blame  from 


150          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

herself.  "She  said  we  might;  but  Prudy 
ought  to  have  gone  straight  home.  I  knew 
it  all  the  time." 

"I  dare  say  some  one  has  driven  off 
your  carriage  in  sport,"  said  the  kind- 
hearted  photographer ;  "  never  fear." 

"O,  no,  sir;  it  was  new  and  red.  Folks 
wanted  it  to  haul  stones  in,  and  that  was 
why  they  took  it,"  said  Dotty,  wrathfully. 

The  children  looked  up  street  and  down 
street.  No  wheelbarrow  in  sight.  "  We 
must  go  to  aunt  Martha's,  and  then  come 
back  and  hunt  for  it,  if  we  have  to  go 
without  our  dinners,"  they  said.  They 
took  Flyaway  between  them,  and  marched 
her  off.  She  was  almost  as  passive  as  a 
rag  baby,  ready  to  drop  down  anywhere, 
and  fall  asleep.  :e 'Cause  I  am  so  tired," 
said  she. 

Aunt  Martha    cordially   invited  the   two 


TIN-TYPES.  151 

cousins  to  dine.  They  thanked  her,  but 
no,  they  must  find  the  wheelbarrow.  ?  We 
shan't  say,  certain  positive,  that  bugglers 
took  it,  but  we  s'pose  so,"  said  Dotty, 
softening  her  judgment,  as  she  remembered 
her  mistake  about  the  "screw-up  pencil." 
They  went  home  through  the  broiling  sun, 
but  found  no  trace  of  the  wheelbarrow. 

"It's  a  dreadful  thing,"  said  Prudy,  la 
zily,  "but  I  don't  feel  as  bad  as  I  should 
if  I  was  fairly  awake." 

"Me,  too,"  yawned  Dotty;  "I  wish  we 
could  lie  down  under  the  trees,  and  go 
to  sleep." 

They  had  been  a  long  while  in  the  close 
saloon,  inhaling  ether,  and  this  was  the 
cause  of  their  languor.  As  they  entered 
the  yard  they  met  Horace. 

"O,  dear,"  said  Dotty,  trying  to  look 
as  sorry  as  she  knew  she  ought  to  feel, 
"that  wheel--" 


152          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed   Prudy. 

There,  under  a  syringa  tree  in  the  gar 
den,  stood  the  wheelbarrow.  The  girls 
rubbed  their  eyes,  and  wondered  if  they 
were  walking  in  their  sleep. 

t?  That  thing  trundled  itself  in  here  about 

half  an   hour   ago,"   said   Horace,    gravely. 

f  You  may  know   I  was   surprised  to  look 

up,  and  see  it  coming  without  hands,  just 

rolling   along   like    a   velocipede." 

Dotty  eyed  the  runaway  wheelbarrow  stu 
pidly.  "  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  she,  flatly. 

Horace  laughed ;  and  then  the  fog  cleared 
away  from  Dotty 's  mind  in  a  minute. 

"Why,  girls,"  said  he,  "how  long  did 
you  think  I  could  wait  to  haul  off  my 
weeds?  You  were  gone  two  hours.  I 
watched  you  on  your  parade,  and  followed 
at  a  respectful  distance." 

"There,    Horace  Clifford!" 


TIN-TYPES.  153 

"  In  order  not  to  disturb  the  procession. 
Then,  when  I  saw  you  going  into  the 
saloon,  I  went  up  and  claimed  my  wheel 
barrow.  Didn't  want  it  any  longer  —  did 
you?" 

"No,  and  never  want  it  again/'  said 
Prudy. 

"By  the  way,  here's  a  conundrum  for 
you,  girls,  Why's  a  wheelbarrow  like  a 
potato  ?  " 

"I  shouldn't  think  it  was  like  it  at  all," 
answered  Dotty.  ?  Where  did  you  read 
that?" 

"Didn't  read  it  anywhere.  I've  given 
up  books  since  I  undertook  gardening. 
Never  was  much  of  a  bookworm.  Make 
a  very  respectable  earth-worm  ;  ask  aunt 
Louise  if  I  don't." 

The  little  girls  entered  the  house,  too 
tired  and  sleepy  to  make  any  reply. 


154  DOTTY   DIMPLE  S   FLYAWAY. 


CHAPTEB    X. 

WAKING. 

FLYAWAY  w^as  very  much  sleepier  than 
either  of  her  cousins,  and  really  did  not 
know  where  she  was,  or  what  she  was 
doing.  Lonnie  Adams,  a  boy  of  Horace's 
age,  tried  to  interest  her.  He  made  believe 
the  old  cat  was  a  sheep,  killed  her  with  an 
iron  spoon,  and  hung  her  up  by  the  hind 
legs  for  mutton,  all  which  Pussy  bore  like 
a  lamb,  for  she  had  been  killed  a  great 
many  times,  and  was  used  to  it.  But  it 
did  not  please  Flyaway;  neither  did  aunt 
Martha's  collection  of  shells  and  pictures 
call  forth  a  single  smile.  There  was  a 


WAKING.  155 

beautiful  clock  in  the  parlor,  and  the  pen 
dulum  was  in  the  form  of  a  little  boy 
swinging;  but  Flyaway  would  not  have 
cared  if  it  had  been  a  gallows,  and  the 
boy  hanging  there  dead. 

Uncle  John  took  her  on  his  knee,  asked 
her  what  her  name  was,  where  she  lived, 
and  whom  she  loved  best;  but  she  only 
answered  she  "didn't  know."  She  might 
have  been  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den,  or  Jo 
seph  in  the  pit,  for  all  the  difference  to  her. 

"  How  very  singular  !  "  said  aunt  Martha. 
"I  wish  her  mother  would  come.  Do  feel 
her  pulse,  John,  and  see  if  it  is  fever." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  uncle  John, 
as  the  little  one's  head  dropped  on  his 
shoulder.  "  Overcome  by  the  heat ;  that's 
all.  I'll  just  lay  her  down  on  the  sofa." 

"When  Mrs.  Clifford  came,  she  was  sur 
prised  to  find  the  child  fast  asleep.  She 


156          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

would  not  have  her  wakened  for  dinner ; 
so  Flyaway  missed  her  "  secretary."  But 
when  it  was  three  o'clock,  and  she  still 
slept,  Mrs.  Clifford  feared  something  was 
wrong,  and  decided  to  take  her  home. 
Uncle  John  had  "Lightning  Dodger"  har 
nessed,  and  brought  around  to  the  door. 

"Wake  up,  little  daughter,"  said  Mrs. 
Clifford;  "we  are  going  home  now." 

Flyaway  looked  around  vacantly,  her  eyes 

• 
as  heavy  as  drenched  violets. 

:t  You  must  come  again,  and  stay  longer," 
said  aunt  Martha ;  "  it  is  hardly  polite  not 
to  let  little  girls  have  their  dinners  —  do 
you  think  it  is?" 

"Yes'm,"  replied  Flyaway,  faintly.  She 
did  not  understand  a  word  any  one  said; 
it  all  sounded  as  indistinct  as  the  roaring 
of  a  sea-shell.  By  the  time  she  was  lifted 
into  her  mother's  arms  in  the  carriage,  she 


WAKING.  157 

was  nodding  again.  When  they  reached 
home  she  scarcely  spoke,  but,  dropping 
upon  the  sofa,  went  on  with  her  dreams. 
It  was  odd  for  Flyaway  to  take  a  nap  in 
the  daytime,  and  such  a  long  one  as  this  ! 

"It  must  be  a  very  warm  day,"  said 
Mrs.  Parlin,  "for  Prudy  and  Dotty  have 
been  asleep  too." 

f  Where  did  they  go  after  they  sold  the 
rags?"  asked  Mrs.  Clifford;  "they  all 
look  pale." 

"To  a  photograph  saloon.  Here  are  the 
tin-types  they  brought  home  to  me,"  re 
plied  grandma,  producing  them  from  her 
pocket,  with  a  gratified  smile. 

?  Very  good,  mother  —  don't  you  think 
so?  I  would  be  glad  to  have  as  truthful 
a  likeness  of  our  little  Katie ;  but  she  must 
be  taken  asleep.  I  wonder,  by  the  way, 
if  there  wasn't  something  in  the  air  of  the 


158          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

saloon  which  made  the  children  all  so  lan 
guid?" 

'Why,  yes,  Maria;  very  likely  it  was 
the  ether.  Now  you  speak  of  it,  I  am  con 
fident  it  must  have  been  the  ether." 

"I  knew  just  such  an  instance  before," 
said  Mrs.  Clifford;  "and  that  is  why  I 
happened  to  think  of  it  now." 

About  four  o'clock  Flyaway  came  to  her 
senses. 

'Where's  the  wheelbarrel ? "  said  she, 
rubbing  her  eyes. 

"O,  Horace  came  and  took  it,"  said 
Dotty.  "  Hasn't  this  been  the  queerest 
day!" 

:?You  said  you's  goin'  to  take  me  to 
aunt  Marfie's  ;  why  didn't  you  ? " 

"O,  we   did;  we  took  you,   you  know." 

"Dotty  Dimpul,  I  shouldn't  think  you'd 
make  any  believe." 


WAKING.  159 

"I'm  not  'making  any  believe'  —  am  I, 
Prudy?" 

"No,  Fly,  she  isn't.  We  pulled  you 
along,  —  don't  you  remember  ?  —  and  you 
hung  back,  and  said,  el  am  so  tired.'' 

"  I  don't  'member,"  said  Flyaway,  slowly 
and  sadly.  "I  shouldn't  think  you'd  make 
any  believe,  Prudy." 

*  We'll  ask  your  mamma,  then ;  she  tells 
the  truth.  Aunt  'Blah,  didn't  we  take 
Flyaway  to  aunt  Martha's  this  morning, 
and  didn't  you  go  there  too  ? " 

"Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Clifford;  "but  it 
wasn't  much  of  a  visit, — was  it,  darling! 
—  when  you  slept  most  of  the  time,  and 
didn't  have  a  mouthful  of  dinner?" 

Flyaway  sighed  heavily,  and  looked  at 
her  mother.  "  O,  mamma  !  mamma  ! " 

"What   is    it,    dear?" 

"O,  mamma,"  repeated  she,  sorrowfully, 
"why  did  you  say  those  words?" 


160          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"What  words,  darling?" 

"Those  naughty,  naughty  words,  mam 
ma."  Flyaway's  gentle  eyes  were  afloat. 
She  crossed  the  room,  and  knelt  by  Mrs. 
Clifford's  chair,  looking  up  at  her  with  an 
expression  of  anguish. 

"  That  man,  he  Avasn't  in  the  lions'  den, 
that  prayed  so  long  and  so  loud,  mamma." 

"  Well,  dear.  " 

".Setelled  a  wrong  story  to  me,  mamma." 

"My  darling  baby,"  said  Mrs.  Clifford, 
catching  Flyaway  in  her  arms,  "do  you 
think  your  own  dear  mother  is  telling  you 
a  wrong  story  this  minute?" 

'"Cause,  'cause,  mamma,  I  didn't  go  to 
aunt  Marfie's  !  " 

"Yes,  you  did,  my  precious  daughter; 
but  you  were  asleep  and  dreaming.  We 
brought  you  home  in  the  carriage,  and 
you  didn't  know  it.  Can't  you  believe  it 
because  I  say  so?" 


WAKING.  161 

Flyaway  made  no  reply  except  to  curl 
her  head  under  Mrs.  Clifford's  arm,  like  a 
frightened  chicken  under  its  mother's  wing. 
Mrs.  Clifford  looked  troubled.  She  was 
afraid  the  little  one  could  not  be  made  to 
understand  it.  Horace  came  to  her  aid. 

"Hold  up  your  head,  little  Topknot, 
and  hear  brother  talk.  Once  there  were 
three  little  girls,  and  they  all  travelled 
round  with  a  wheelbarrow.  By  and  by 
they  came  to  a  man's  house  on  wheels." 

"Yes,"  said  Flyaway,  starting  up;  "I 
'member." 

"And  the  wee  girl,  with  dove's  eyes — " 

"O,   O,  that's  me!" 

"  She  couldn't  keep  still,  and  couldn't 
get  any  picture." 

"  No,  tin-tybe ;  'cause  —  'cause  —  " 

"And  all  the  while  there  was  something 
in  the  man's  house  they  kept  breathing 
11 


162          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

into  their  noses,  and  it  made  them  grow 
sleepy." 

"Just  so?"  asked  Flyaway,  sniffing. 

?  Yes ;  and  by  and  by  the  little  one  with 
dove's  eyes  was  as  stupid  as  that  woman 
you  saw  lying  down  in  the  street  with  the 
pig  looking  at  her." 

"Me?  Was  I  a  drunken?"  said  Flya 
way,  in  a  subdued  tone." 

"O,  no,"  put  in  Dotty;  "it  wasn't  whis 
key,  it  was  either;  and  I  didn't  know  much 
more  than  you  did,  Fly  Clifford.  That 
was  why  I  lost  your  money,  Prudy;  I 
just  about  know  it  was." 

Flyaway  began  to  understand.  The  look 
of  fear  and  distrust  went  out  of  her  eyes, 
and  she  threw  her  arms  round  her  mother's 
neck,  kissing  her  again  and  again. 

"  'Haps  I  did  go  to  aunt  Marfie's,  mamma ; 
'haps  I  was  asleep ! " 


WAKING.  163 

"  That's  right,  Miss  Topknot,"  cried  Hor 
ace  ;  "  now  your  brother'll  carry  you  pick 
aback." 

A  little  while  afterward  Mrs.  Clifford 
began  a  letter  to  her  husband. 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  papa  about  his  little 
girl  —  that  she  is  very  well." 

"  O,  no,  you  needn't,  mamma,"  said 
Flyaway,  laughing ;  "  papa  knows  it.  I 
was  well  at  home." 

"What   shall  I  tell   him,   then?" 

Flyaway  thought   a   moment. 

«  Tell  him  all  the  folks  doesn't  tell  lies," 
said  she,  earnestly;  "only  but  the  naughty 
folks  tells  lies." 

So  that  was  settled ;  and  Flyaway  de 
cided  to  write  off  the  whole  story,  and  send 
to  her  father — a  mixture  of  little  sharp 
zigzags,  curves,  and  dots.  When  Horace 
asked  her  what  these  meant,  she  said  "she 


164          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

couldn't  'member  now  ;  but  papa  would 
know." 

There  was  another  matter  which  troubled 
grandma  Parlin  somewhat.  Dotty  had  gone 
to  the  store,  after  dinner,  with  two  ten- 
cent  pieces  in  her  porte-monnaie.  She 
had  bought  for  herself  some  jujube  paste, 
but  in  returning  had  lost  the  other  dime. 

"Grandma,  do  you  think  that  is  fair?" 
said  Prudy.  "  She  has  lost  my  money,  but 
she  doesn't  care  at  all ;  only  laughs.  I  was 
going  to  put  it  with  some  more  I  had,  and 
buy  mother  a  collar." 

"  No,  it  is  not  right,"  replied  grandma. 
"I  will  talk  with  her,  and  try  to  make 
her  willing  to  give  you  some  of  hers  in 
return." 

Ah,  grandma  Parlin,  you  little  knew 
what  you  were  undertaking  when  you 
called  Dotty  Dimple  into  the  back  parlor 


WAKING.  165 

next  morning,  and  began  to  talk  about 
that  money !  Children's  minds  are  strange 
things.  They  are  like  bottles  with  very 
small  necks  ;  and  when  you  pour  in  an 
idea,  you  must  pour  very  slowly,  a  drop 
at  a  time,  or  it  all  runs  over.  Dotty  did 
not  know  much  more  about  money  than 
Flyaway. 

"  My  child,"  said  her  grandmother,  w  it 
seems  you  have  lost  something  which  be 
longed  to  Prudy." 

Dotty  looked  up  carelessly  from  the  pic 
ture  of  a  rose  she  held  in  her  hand,  which 
she  meant  to  adorn  with  yellow  paint. 

"O,  yes'm;  you  mean  that  money." 

"  There  are  several  things  you  don't 
know,  Dotty;  and  one  is,  that  you  have  no 
right  to  lose  other  people's  things." 

«  No  >m." 

"The  money  you   dropped  out  of  your 


166          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

porte-monnaie,  yesterday,  was  Prudy's,  not 
yours ;  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  about 
it?" 

"  Let    me    see ;   my    mother  11  come   to 
morrow;    I'll    ask   her    to    give    me    some 


more." 


"  But  is  that  right  ?  Dotty  lost  the 
money ;  must  not  Dotty  be  the  one  to  give 
it  back?" 

"  O,  grandma,  I  can't  find  it !  The  wind 
blew  it  away,  or  a  horse  stepped  on  it.  I 
can't  find  it,  certainly." 

"  No ;  but  you  have  money  of  your  own. 
You  can  give  some  of  that  to  Prudy." 

"Why-eel"  moaned  Dotty.  "Prudy's 
got  ever  so  much.  O,  grandma,  she  has; 
and  my  box  is  so  empty  it. can't  but  just 
jingle." 

"But,  my  dear,  that  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  case.  If  Prudy  has  a  great  deal 


WAKING.  167 

of  money,  you  have  no  right  to  lose  any 
of  it.  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  give 
it  back?" 

"  O,  no,  grandma  —  I  don't;  because  she 
doesn't  need  it !  I  wish  she'd  give  me  ten 
cents,  for  I  do  need  it;  I  haven't  but  a 
tinty,  tonty  mite." 

Here  Dotty  threw  herself  on  the  sofa, 
the  picture  of  despair.  Grandma  was  per 
plexed.  Had  she  been  pouring  ideas  into 
Dotty's  mind  too  fast?  What  should  she 
say  next? 

"My  dear  little  girl,  suppose  Prudy 
should  lose  some  of  your  money  —  what 
then?" 

"I  shouldn't  like  it  at  all,  grandma.  Don't 
let  her  go  to  my  box  —  will  you  ?  " 

"  Selfish  little  girl !  "  said  grandma,  look 
ing  keenly  at  Dotty's  troubled  face.  "  You 


168          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

would  expect  Prudy  to  return  every  cent, 
if  she  were  in  your  place." 

"  Because  —  because  —  grandma  —  " 

'Yes;  and  when  I  explain  your  duty  to 
you,  you  don't  understand  me.  You  would 
understand  if  you  were  not  so  selfish ! " 

Dotty  winced. 

"Don't  come  to  me  again,  and  complain 
of  Jennie  Vance." 

Dotty  could  not  meet  her  grandmother's 
searching  gaze  :  it  seemed  to  cut  into  her 
heart  like  a  sharp  blade. 

"Am  I  as  bad  as  Jennie  Vance?  Yes, 
just  as  bad;  and  grandma  knows  it.  But 
then,"  said  she  aloud,  though  very  faintly, 
"Prudy  needn't  have  put  it  in  my  porte- 
monnaie;  she  might  have  known  I'd  lose 
it." 

"Dotty,  I  am  not  going  to  say  any  more 
about  it  now.  You  may  think  it  over  to- 


WAKING.  169 

day,  and  decide  for  yourself  whether  you 
are  following  the  Golden  Rule.  Or,  if  you 
choose,  you  may  wait  and  talk  with  your 
mother." 

5?  Yes  'm."      Dotty  was    glad  to    escape 
into  the  kitchen. 


170          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


CHAPTER    XI. 
AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY. 

FLYAWAY  sat  on  the  kitchen  floor,  feed 
ing  Dinah  with  a  roasted  apple.  As  often 
as  Dinah  refused  a  teaspoonful,  she  put 
it  into  her  own  mouth,  saying,  with  a  wise 
nod,  "  My  child,  she's  sick  ;  hasn't  any 
appletite" 

Out  of  doors  it  was  raining  heartily.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  "  upper  deep  "  was  tipping 
over,  and  pouring  itself  into  the  lap  of  the 
earth. 

"O,  Ruthie,"  sighed  Dotty  Dimple,  "my 
mother  won't  come  while  it's  such  weather. 
Do  you  s'pose  'twill  ever  clear  off?" 


m 

I     /   /  •  i      iii 


FLYAWAY  AND  DINAH.     Puire  171. 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  171 

'Yes,  I  do,"  replied  Kuth,  trimming  a 
pie  briskly;  "it  only  began  last  night  at 
five." 

'  Why,  Kuthie  Dillon !  it  began  three 
weeks  ago,  by  the  clock !  Don't  you  know 
that  day  I  couldn't  go  visiting  ?  Only 
sometimes  it  $tops  a  while,  and  then  begins 


again." 


"  If  you're  going  to  have  the  blues,  Miss 
Dotty,  I'll  thank  you  kindly  just  to  take 
yourself  out  of  this  kitchen.  Polly  ^hit- 
ing  is  here,  and  she  is  as  much  as  a  body 
can  endure  in  this  dull  weather." 

"It's  pitiful  'bout  the  rain,  Dotty;  but 
you  mustn't  scold  when  God  sended  it," 
said  Flyaway,  dropping  the  feeble  Dinah, 
and  pursuing  her  cousin  round  the  room 
with  a  pin.  In  a  minute  they  were  both 
laughing  gayly,  till  Flyaway  caught  her 
self  on  her  little  rocking-chair,  and  "got 


172          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

a  torn  in  her  apron."  That  ended  the 
sport. 

"What  shall  I  do  to  make  myself  hap 
py  ?  "  said  Dotty,  musingly ;  for  she  wished 
to  put  off  all  thought  of  Prudy's  money. 
"I  should  like  to  roll  out  some  thimble- 
cookies,  but  Euthie  hasn't  much  patience 
this  morning.  I  never  dare  do  things  when 
her  lips  are  squeezed  together  so." 

But  Flyaway  dared  do  things.  She  took 
up  the  kitty,  and  played  to  her  on  the 
"music,"  till  Euth's  ears  were  "  on  edge." 
After  this  the  harmonica  fell  into  a  dish 
of  soft  soap,  and  in  cleaning  it  with  ashes 
and  a  sponge,  the  holes  became  stopped. 

"It  won't  muse  no  more,"  said  Flyaway, 
in  sad  surprise,  blowing  into  the  keys  in 
vain.  Euth  loved  the  little  child  too  well 
to  say  she  was  glad  of  it. 

Flyaway's  next  dash  was  into  the   sink 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  173 

cupboard,  where  she  found  a  wooden  bowl 
of  sand.  This  she  dragged  out,  and  filling 
her  "  nipperkin  "  with  water,  carried  them 
both  to  Euth,  saying,  in  her  sweet,  plead 
ing  way,  — 

"If  you  please,  Euthie,  will  you  tell 
how  God  does  when  he  takes  the  f  little 
drops  of  water  and  little  grains  of  sand,' 
and  makes  f  the  mighty  oshum '  with  urn, 
'  and  the  pleasant  land  '  ?  " 

Euthie  had  no  answer  but  a  kiss  and  a 
smile. 

"  There,  away  with  you  into  the  nursery, 
both  of  you.  I  know  Polly  Whiting  is 
lonesome  without  you." 

Off  went  the  children,  Flyaway  "  with 
a  heart  for  any  fate,"  but  Dotty  still  op 
pressed  by  the  shadow  of  the  ten-cent 
piece. 

« If  I  don't  give  it  to  Prudy,  will  I  be 


174         DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

dishonest?  Will  I  be  as  bad  as  Jennie 
Vance?" 

When  they  entered  the  nursery,  Miss 
Polly  was  standing  before  the  mirror,  ar 
ranging  her  black  cap,  and  weaving  into 
her  collar  a  square  black  breast-pin,  which 
aunt  Louise  said  looked  like  a  gravestone. 
Flyaway  peeped  in  too,  placing  her  smooth 
pink  cheek  beside  Miss  Polly's  wrinkled 
one. 

"I  don't  look  alike,  Miss  Polly,"  said 
she;  "and  you  don't  look  alike  too." 

Certainly  not;  no  more  alike  than  a 
blush-rose  bud  and  a  dried  apple. 

:?  What  makes  the  red  go  out  of  folks' 
checks  when  they  grow  old,  and  the  wrin 
kles  crease  in,  like  the  pork  in  baked 
beans?"  queried  Dotty. 

"I  couldn't  tell  you,"  replied  the  good 
lady,  giving  a  pat  to  her  cap,  and  settling 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  175 

the  bows  carefully ;  "  but  if  you  had  asked 
how  I  happened  to  grow  old  before  my 
time,  I  should  say  I'd  had  such  a  hard 
chance  through  life,  and  trouble  always 
leaves  its  mark." 

"Does  it?  O,  dear!  I  have  trouble, — 
ever  so  much;  will  it  quirk  my  face  all 
u«p,  like  yours?" 

:t  You  have  trouble,  Dotty  Parlin?  Haven't 
you  found  out.  yet  that  the  lines  have  fallen 
to  you  in  pleasant  places  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  lines," 
said  Dotty,  thinking  of  fish-hooks  ;  "but 
when  it  rains,  and  folks  want  me  to  do 
things  that  are  real  hard,  then  why,  I'm 
blue,  now  truly." 

"Then  we're  blue,  now  truly,"  added 
Flyaway  by  way  of  finish. 

"  What  would  you  do,  children,  if  you 
were  driven  about,  as  I  used  to  be,  from 


176          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

post  to   pillar,  with  no  mother  to  care  for 
you?" 

"  If  I  hadn't  no  mamma,  I  could  go  bare 
foot,  like  a  dog,"  said  Flyaway,  brightening 
with  the  new  idea ;  "  I  could  paddle  in 
the  water  too,  and  eat  pepnits." 

"O,  child!  But  what  if  you  had  neither 
father  nor  mother  ?  " 

"Then,"  said  Flyaway  coolly,  "I  should 
go  to  some  house  where  there  was  a  fa 
ther 'n  mother." 

?  Why,  you  little  heartless  thing  !  But 
that  is  always  the  way  with  children ;  their 
parents  set  their  lives  by  them,  but  not  a 
?  thank  you '  do  they  get  for  their  love ! 
Try  a  pinch,"  continued  she,  offering  her 
snuff-box  to  the  little  folks,  who  both  de 
clined.  This  Polly  thought  was  strange. 
They  must  like  snuff  if  they  followed  the 
natural  bent  of  their  noses. 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  177 

"Yes,  Katie,  as  I  was  saying,  you  little 
know  how  your  mother  loves  you." 

"  Yes  um,  I  do.  She  loves  me  more  'n 
the  river,  and  the  sky,  and  the  bridge. 
My  papa  loves  me  too,  only  but  he  don't 
say  nuffin'  'bout  it." 

"Yes,  yes;  just  so,"  said  Miss  Polly, 
who  talked  to  the  simplest  infants  just  as 
she  did  to  grown  people.  "  One  of  these 
days  you  will  look  back,  and  see  how 
happy  you  are  now,  and  be  sorry  you 
didn't  prize  your  parents  while  you  had 
them." 

Flyaway  rested  her  rosy  cheek  on  Polly's 
knee,  and  watched  the  gray  knitting-work 
as  it  came  out  of  the  basket.  She  did  not 
understand  the  sad  woman's  words,  but 
was  attracted  by  her  loving  nature,  and 
liked  to  sit  near  her,  a  minute  at  a  time, 
and  have  her  hair  stroked. 
12 


178          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

:?  There,  now,"  said  Dotty,  '  you  are 
knitting,  Miss  Polly;  and  it's  so  lonesome 
all  round  the  house,  with  mother  not  com 
ing  till  to-morrow,  that  I  should  think  you 
might  tell  —  well,  tell  an  anecdote." 

"  I  don't  know  where  to  begin,  or  what  to 
say,"  replied  Polly,  falling  into  deep  thought. 

"I  just  believe  she  does  sigh  at  "the  end 
of  every  needle,"  mused  Dotty;  "I'm  going 
to  keep  'count.  That's  once." 

"Please,  Miss  Polly,  tell  a  nanny-goat" 
said  Flyaway,  dancing  around  the  room. 
"Please,  Miss  Polly,  and  I'll  kiss  you  a 
pretty  little  kiss." 

"  Twice,"  whispered  Dotty. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  something  that  will 
pass  for  an  anecdote,  on  condition  that 
you  call  me  aunt  Polly ;  that  name  warms 
my  heart  a  great  deal  better  than  Miss 
Polly." 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  179 

"  Three  !  "  said  Dotty  aloud.  "  We  will, 
honestly,  if  we  can  think  of  it,  aunt  Polly. 
—  Four." 

"Le'me  gwout  for  the  sidders,  first," 
said  busy  Flyaway. 

"There,  aunt  Polly,  you  forgot  it  that 
time !  You  sprang  up  quick  to  shut  the 
door,  and  forgot  it." 

"  Forgot  what  ?  " 

f  You  didn't  sigh  at  the  end  of  your 
needle." 

:t  Why,  Dotty,  how  you  do  talk !  Any 
one  would  suppose,  by  that,  I  was  in  the 
habit  of  sighing !  I  have  a  stitch  in  my 
side,  child,  and  it  makes  me  draw  a  long 
breath  now  and  then;  that's  all." 

Flyaway  was  back  again, 

"With  step-step  light,  and  tip- tap  slight 
Against  the  door." 


180          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Dotty,  "  and  see  if  you 
can  keep  still  two  whole  minutes ;  but  I 
know  you  can't." 

Miss  Polly  let  her  work  fall  in  her  lap, 
and  drew  up  the  left  sleeve  of  her  black 
alpaca  dress.  "Do  you  see  that  scar, 
children  ?  " 

It  was  just  below  the  elbow,  —  an  irreg 
ular,  purple  mark,  about  the  size  of  a  new 
cent. 

"Why,  Miss  — why,    aunt    Polly!" 

"  I've  got  one  on  me  too,"  said  Flya 
way,  pulling  at  her  apron  sleeve ;  "  Hollis 
did  it  with  the  tongs." 

"  It   can't  be ;  not   a   scar  like  mine." 

"  Bigger  'n'  larger  V  yours ;  only  but  I 
can't  find  it,"  said  Flyaway,  carefully  twist 
ing  around  her  dainty  white  arm,  which 
Polly  kissed,  and  said  was  as  sweet  as  a 
peach.  "Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours.  Where's 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  181 

it  gone  to?  O,  I  feegot  —  'twas  on  my 
sleeve,  and  I  never  put  it  on  to-day." 

"You're  a  droll  child,  not  to  know  the 
difference  between  scars  and  dirt !  When 
I  was  almost  as  young  and  quite  as  inno 
cent,  that  wicked  little  boy  bit  me,  and 
I  shall  carry  the  marks  of  his  teeth  to  my 
grave."  With  another  lingering  glance  at 
tfre  purple  mark,  Polly  drew  down  her 
sleeve,  sighed,  and  began  to  knit  again. 

!fWas  it  the  woman's  child  that  made 
you  dig,  that  you  told  about  last  summer?  " 

'  Yes ;    I  was  a  bound  girl." 

"  Bound  to  what  ? "  Dotty  was  trying 
to  drown  the  remembrance  of  Prudy's  ten 
cents ;  so  she  wished  to  keep  Miss  Polly 
talking. 

"Bound  to  Mrs.  Potter  till  I  was  eighteen 
years  old.  Her  husband  kept  public  house. 
They  made  a  perfect  slave  of  me.  When 


182          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

I  was  twelve  years  old  I  had  to  milk  three 
cows,  besides  spinning  my  day's  work  on 
the  flax-wheel.  And  very  often  all  I  had 
for  supper  was  brown  bread  and  skim  milk. 
I  didn't  have  any  grandfather's  house  to 
go  to,  with  a  seat  in  the  trees,  and  a  boat 
on  the  water,  and  a  swing,  and  a  sum 
mer  house,  and  a  crocky-set  (croquet  set). 
Not  I ! " 

Flyaway  was  cutting  paper  dolls  with  all 
speed,  but  her  sweet  little  face  was  drawn 
into  curves  of  pity. 

"  Too  bad !  Naughty  folks  to  give  you 
skilmick" 

"I  had  to  scour  all  the  knives  too.  I 
did  it  by  drawing  them  back  and  forth  into 
a  sand-bank  back  of  the  house.  This  Isaac 
I  speak  of  was  a  lazy  boy,  and  very  unkind 
to  me ;  but  his  mother  wouldn't  hear  a 
word  against  him.  One  day  I  brushed  a 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STOKY.  183 

traveller's  coat,  and  got  a  silver  quarter  for 
my  trouble.  I  thought  everything  of  that 
quarter.  I  had  never  had  so  much  money 
before  in  my  life.  I  had  half  a  mind  to 
put  it  in  the  Savings  Bank ;  ?  and  who 
knows,'  thought  I,  'but  I  can  add  more  to 
it,  one  of  these  days,  and  buy  my  time." 

"  Why,  Miss  Polly,  I  didn't  know  you 
could  buy  time  !  " 

"  But  you  knew  you  could  throw  it  away, 
I  suppose,"  said  Polly,  with  a  sad  smile. 
"  What  I  mean  is  this :  I  wanted  to  pay 
Mrs.  Potter  some  money,  so  I  could  go 
free  before  I  was  eighteen." 

"  Then  you  would  be  unbound,  aunt 
Polly." 

"Yes  ;  but  one  day  Isaac  found  my 
money,  —  I  kept  it  in  an  old  tobacco-box, 
—  and,  just  to  hector  me,  he  kept  tossing 
it  up  in  the  air,  till  all  of  a  sudden  it  fell 


184         DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 


"HERE  HE  IS!" 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STOKY.  185 

through  a  crack  in  the  floor;  and  that  was 
the  last  I  saw  of  it." 

?  What  a  naughty,    careless   boy  ! " 

After  Dotty  had  said  this,  she  blushed. 

"Naughty,  careless  boy!"  echoed  Flya 
way.  "  Here  he  is ! "  holding  up  a  paper 
doll  shaped  very  much  like  a  whale,  with 
the  fin  divided  for  legs,  the  ears  of  a  cat, 
and  the  arms  of  a  windmill.  "  Here  he  is  ! " 

"He  didn't  look  much  like  that,"  said 
Polly,  laughing.  "  He  had  plenty  of  money 
of  his  own,  and  I  tried  to  make  him  give 
me  back  a  quarter;  but  do  you  believe  he 
wouldn't,  not  even  a  irinepence?  And 
when  I  teased  him,  that  was  the  time  he 
bit  my  arm." 

"  He  oughtn't  to  bitted  your  arm,  course, 
indeed  not !  " 

"  But,  aunt  Polly,"  faltered  Dotty,  whose 
efforts  to  forget  the  ten-cent  piece  had 


186          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

proved  worse  than  useless,  "but  it  didn't 
do  Isaac  any  good  to  lose  your  money 
down  a  crack." 

"No,  it  was  sheer  mischief." 

"  And  if  it  doesn't  do  folks  any  good  to 
lose  things,  you  know,  why,  what's  the 
use  —  to  —  to  —  go  and  get  his  own  money 
to  pay  it  back  with?  —  Isaac  I  mean." 

"What  do  you  say,  Dotty  Parlin?  You, 
a  child  that  goes  to  Sabbath  school !  Don't 
you  know  it  is  a  sin  to  steal  a  pin?  And 
if  we  lose  or  injure  other  people's  things, 
and  don't  make  it  up  to  them,  we're  as 
good  as  thieves." 

"As  good?" 

"As  bad,  then." 

"But  s'posin'— s'posin'  folks  lose  things 
when  they  don't  toss  'em  up  in  the  air, 
and  don't  mean  to, — the  wind,  you  know, 
or  a  kind  of  an  accident,  Miss  Polly,  — " 


AUNT  POLLY'S  STORY.  187 

"Well?" 

"And  s'posin'  I  didn't  have  any  more 
money  'n  I  wanted  myself,  and  Prudy  had 
the  most —  H'm — " 

"Well?" 

"  Then  it  isn't  as  bad  as  thieves ;  now  is 
it?  She's  got  the  most.  Prudy's  older 'n 
I  am  —  " 

"Honesty  is  honesty,"  said  Miss  Polly, 
firmly,  "in  young  or  old.  If  you've  lost 
your  sister's  money,  you  must  make  it  up 
to  her." 

"O,  must  I,  Miss  Polly?  Such  a  tinty- 
tonty  mite  of  money  as  I've  got,  —  only 
sixty-five  cents." 

"Honesty  is  honesty,"  repeated  .  Miss 
Polly,  "  in  rich  or  poor." 

"Dear  me  !  will  my  mother  say  so,  too?" 

"Your  mother  is  on  the  right  side,  Dot 
ty,  The  Bible  tells  us  to  'deal  justly.' 


188  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

There's   nothing   said  there   about  excusing 
poor  folks." 

"O,  dear!  do  you  s'pose  the  Bible  ex 
pects  me  to  pay  Prudy  Parlin  ten  cents, 
when  it  just  blew  out  of  my  hands,  and 
didn't  do  me  a  speck  of  good  ?  " 

f  Why,  Dotty,  you  surprise  m&  !  Any 
one  would  think  you  were  brought  up  a 
heathen !  If  you  were  a  small  child  I 
could  understand  it." 

"  I  knew  I  should  have  to  do  it,"  moaned 
Dotty. 

"I  advise  you  to  lose  no  time  about  it, 
then;  that  is  the  cause  of  your  blues,  I 
guess.  We  can't  be  happy  out  of  the  line 
of  our  duty,"  sighed  Miss  Polly,  who  re 
garded  herself  as  a  pattern  of  cheerfulness. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do," 
•said  Dotty,  resolutely;  "I'm  going  right 
olT  to  pay  that  money  to  Prudy,  and  then 
I'll  be  in  the  line  of  my  duty." 


FULL  NIPPERKIN.  189 


CHAPTEE    XII. 

FULL  NIPPERKIN. 

PRUDY  scorned  to  take  the  ten  cents. 
"  Did  you  think  your  '  middle-aged '  sister 
would  do  such  a  thing,  when  she  has  more 
money  than  you  have,  Dotty  Dimple?  If 
you're  only  sorry,  that's  all  I  ask.  I  didn't 
like  to  have  you  laugh,  as  if  you  didn't 


care." 


"  But,  Prudy,  I  want  to  be  honest." 
w  JLnd  so  you  have  been,  dear  child," 
said  grandma  Parlin,  with  an  approving 
smile.  "If  Prudy  chooses  now  to  give  you 
the  money,  receive  it  as  a  present,  and 
say,  '  Thank  you.' " 


190          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"O,  thank  you,  Prudy  Parlin,  over  and 
over,  and  up  to  the  moon,"  cried  Dotty, 
throwing  her  arms  around  her  kind  sister's 
neck.  "I'll  never  lose  anything  of  yours 
again ;  no,  never,  never  !  " 

This  lesson  was  laid  away  on  a  shelf  in 
Dotty's  memory.  Close  beside  it  was  an 
other  lesson,  still  more  wholesome. 

"Dotty  Dimple  isn't  the  best  girl  that 
ever  lived.  She  had  to  be  talked  to  and 
talked  to,  before  she  was  willing  to  do 
right.  She  isn't  any  better  than  Jennie 
Vance,  after  all.  Why  did  she  pray  that 
naughty  prayer,  just  to  make  Jennie  feel 
bad  ?  God  must  have  thought  it  was  very 
strange ! " 

Grandma  saw  that  Dotty's  "blues"  were 
dissolving  like  a  morning  mist;  still  she 
knew  the  child  was  in  need  of  patchwork, 
and  told  her  so. 


FULL   NIPPERKINT.  191 

"  Let  us  all  take  our  work,"  said  she, 
"  and  sit  together  in  the  nursery,  so  we 
may  forget  the  dull  weather." 

Grace  brought  her  piqu£  apron  down 
stairs  to  make,  Susy  her  tatting,  Prudy  a 
handkerchief,  Dotty  a  square  of  patchwork, 
while  Flyaway  danced  about  for  a  needle 
and  thread. 

"What  a  happy  group  !  "  said  Mrs.  Clif 
ford,  looking  up  from  her  sewing.  She 
had  forgotten  Polly  Whiting,  who  was 
mournfully  toeing  off  a  sock  "for  Horace, 
while  he  sat  on  the  floor,  at  her  feet,  mend 
ing  her  double-covered  basket. 

"Why,  Katie,  darling,"  said  Grace,  "what 
are  you  doing  with  that  beautiful  ribbon?" 

"  Aunt  Louise  said  I  might  make  a  bag, 
Gracie  —  " 

"Seems  to  me  aunt  Louise  lets  you  do 
everything;  I  shouldn't  want  you  to  spoil 
that  ribbon." 


192          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

"  They  shan't  bother  my  little  Topknot," 
said  Horace,  with  a  sweep  of  his  thumb. 
"  She  is  going  to  have  all  my  clothes  to 
make  bags  of,  when  she  grows  up." 

Flyaway,  who  knew  she  had  a  good  right 
to  the  ribbon,  pressed  her  eyelids  together 
slowly. 

"If  Ps  Gracie,"  said  she,  severely,  "I'd 
make  aprons  ;  if  I's  mamma  I'd  sew  dresses  ; 
if  I's  Flywer,  I'd  do  just 's  I  want  to." 

And  then  she  went  on  sewing,  without 
any  thimble. 

"  Girls,  have  you  guessed  yet  why  a 
wheelbarrow  is  like  a  potato  ? " 

"No,  Horace;  why  is   it?" 

"  O,  I  was  in  hopes  you  could  tell.  / 
don't  know,  I  am  sure.  It  is  as  much  a: 
I  can  do  to  make  up  a  conundrum,  with 
out  finding  out  the  answer." 

The  children  laughed  at  this,  but  none 


FULL  NIPPERKIN.  193 

of  them  so  loud  as  Flyaway,  who  thought 
her  brother  the  wisest,  wittiest,  and  noblest 
specimen  of  boyhood  that  ever  lived. 

"  How  our  needles  do  fly !  "  said  Dotty, 
merrily. 

She  was  a  neat  and  swift  little  seam 
stress,  even  superior  to  Prudy. 

"  See,"  said  Flyaway  to  Horace  ;  "  I  work 
faster 'n  my  mamma,  'cause  she's  got  a  big 
dress  to  work  on :  of  course  she  can't  sew 
so  quick  as  I  can  on  a  little  bag." 

"Prudy  can  sew  better  and  faster  than 
I  can,"  said  Dotty,  with  a  sudden  gush  of 
humility. 

"Why,  Dotty  Dimple,  I  don't  think  so," 
returned  Prudy,  quite  surprised. 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  aunt  Maria;  "I 
am  afraid  our  little  Dotty  is  hardly  sin 


cere." 


Dotty 's  head  drooped  a  little.     "  I  know 
13 


194          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

it,  auntie ;  I  do  sew  the  nicest ;  but  I 
was  afraid  it  wouldn't  be  polite  if  I  told 
it  just  as  it  was,  and  Prudy  so  good  to 
me,  too." 

"If  she  is  good,  is  that  any  reason  why 
you  should  tell  her  a  wrong  story?"  re 
marked  the  plain-spoken  Susy,  giving  a 
twitch  to  her  tatting-thread. 

"Children,"  said  Mrs.  Clifford,  laughing, 
"do  you  remember  those  hideous  green 
goggles  I  wore  a  year  ago  ?  " 

"O,  yes  'm,"  replied  Grace;  "they  made 
your  eyes  stick  out  so !  Why,  you  looked 
like  a  frog,  ma',  more  than  anything  else." 

?  Well,  a  certain  lady  of  my  acquaint 
ance  was  so  polite  as  to  tell  me  my  gog 
gles  were  very  becoming." 

"O,    ma,    who    could   it   have  been?" 

"  I  prefer  not  to  give  you  her  name.  I 
appreciated  her  kind  wish  to  please  me, 
but  I  could  njot  think  her  sincere." 


FULL   NIPPERKIN.  195 

"O,  Susy,"  said  Grace,  "if  you  could 
have  seen  those  goggles  !  A  little  basket 
for  each  eye,  made  of  green  wire,  like  a 
fly  cover !  Ma,  did  you  ever  believe  a 
word  that  lady  said  afterwards?" 

"  Flatterers  are  not  generally  to  be  trust 
ed,"  replied  Mrs.  Clifford.  "Flyaway,  that 
is  the  fourth  needle  you  have  lost." 

Here  was  another  lesson  for  Dotty's 
memory-shelf.  *  I  must  not  say  things  that 
are  not  true,  just  to  be  polite.  It  is  flat 
tering  and  wicked ;  and  besides  that,  people 
always  know  better." 

It  was  a  quiet,  busy,  cheerful  day.  Dotty 
forgot  to  complain  of  the  weather.  Just 
before  supper  Flyaway  jumped  down  -from 
her  grandpapa's  knee,  where  she  had  been 
talking  to  him  through  his  "  conversation- 
tube,"  and  ran  to  the  window. 

c  Why,  'tisn't  raining,"  cried  she;  "true's 
I'm  walking  on  this  floor  'tisn't  raining!" 


196          DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

Dotty  clapped  her  hands,  and  watched 
the  sun  coming  out  like  pure  gold,  and 
turning  the  dark  clouds  into  silver. 

'We  were  patient  and  willing  for  it  to 
rain,"  said  she ;  "  but  of  course  that  wasn't 
why  it  cleared  off." 

And  it  wasn't  why  Flyaway  lost  her 
thumb-nail,  either.  She  lost  that  —  or  half 
of  it  —  in  the  crack  of  the  door.  The 
poor  little  thumb  was  very  painful,  and 
had  to  be  put  in  a  cot. 

"  It  wearies  me,"  said  Flyaway ;  "  it  makes 
me  afraid  I  shan't  ever  have  a  nail  on 
there  again." 

Her  mother  assured  her  she  would.  The 
same  God  who  calls  up  the  little  blades  of 
grass  out  of  the  ground  could  make  a  finger 
nail  grow. 

"  Will  He  ?  "  said  Flyaway,  smiling 
through  tears ;  w  but  'haps  He'll  forget  how 


FULL   NIPPERKIN.  197 

it  looks.  Musn't  I  save  a  piece  of  my 
nail,  mamma,  and  lay  it  up  on  the  shelf, 
so  He  can  see  it,  and  make  the  other  one 
like  it?" 

Mrs.  Clifford  put  the  nail  in  her  jewel- 
box,  and  I  dare  say  it  may  be  there  to 
this  day. 

Just  as  Flyaway,  in  her  nightie,  was 
having  a  frolic  with  Grace,  there  was  a 
sound  of  wheels.  The  stage,  which  Horace 
called  the  "  Oriole "  because  it  had  a  yel 
low  breast,  was  rolling  into  the  yard. 

"  It's  my  mother  —  my  mother,"  cried 
the  three  Parlins  together. 

Yes,  and  who  was  that  little  girl  getting 
down  just  after  her?  Her  hat  covered  her 
eyes.  "It  isn't  Tate  Penny!"  Why,  to 
be  sure  it  was!  There  was  her  dimpled 
chin  ;  and  if  that  wasn't  proof  enough, 
there  was  the  wart  on  her  thumb ! 


198  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY, 

To  think  such  a  glorious  thing  as  this 
could  happen  to  Dotty !  and  she  not  the 
best  girl  in  the  world  either !  A  visit 
from  her  bosom  friend !  "  Aunt  'Kia,  do 
you  understand?  Aunt  Louise?  Gracie? 
This  is  Tate  Penny!" 

:?Who  asked  her  to  come?  How  did 
she  happen  to  be  with  mamma,  the  same 
day,  in  the  same  cars  ? " 

Well,  grandma  Parlin  invited  her  to 
come.  '  When  one  lives  in  an  India-rub 
ber  house,"  she  said,  "  a  few  people  more 
or  less  make  no  difference  at  all.  She 
wished  Dotty's  '  nipperkin  '  of  happiness  to 
be  full  for  once." 

And  it  was :  it  ran  over.  There  were 
joyful  days  for  the  next  fortnight.  I  could 
never  draw  the  picture  of  them  with  my 
pen,  even -if  I  had  the  paper  left  to  put 
it  on.  They  kept  house  under  the  trees ; 


FULL   NIPPERKIN.  199 

they  baked  their  food  in  a  brick  oven 
Horace  made  ;  they  gave  a  party ;  they  had 
boat  rides ;  they  had  swings ;  they  never 
went  into  the  house  unless  it  rained;  they 
were  never  cross  to  one  another,  or  rude 
to  Jennie  Vance ;  it  was  like  living  in 
fairy-land. 

It  was  a  glorious  summer.  I  almost 
wish  it  had  not  come  to  an  end ;  though, 
in  that  case,  I  suppose  I  should  never 
have  stopped  telling  about  it.  By  and  by 
vacation  was  over,  and  Tate  went  off  in 
the  same  stage  with  the  Parlins.  You 
could  never  guess  what  she  and  Dotty  each 
put  so  carefully  into  their  bosoms,  to  keep 
"forever."  It  was  a  splinter  of  the  dear 
old  barn  where  they  had  had  such  good 
times  jumping ! 

Three  weeks  afterwards  the  "  Oriole " 
drove  up  to  grandpapa  Parlin's  again,  and 


200  DOTTY  DIMPLE'S  FLYAWAY. 

this  time  for  the  Cliffords.  Flyaway  danced 
into  it  like  a  piece  of  thistle-down.  Every 
body  threw  good-by  kisses,  and  the  stage 
rattled  away. 

And  after  that,  clears,  as  Flyaway  will 
say  to  her  grandchildren,  "things  went  into 
a  mist."  'And  this  is  all  I  have  to  tell 
you  about  the  Parlins,  the  Cliffords,  and 
the  Willowbrook  home. 


THE  END. 


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